Bullets
by BloodyMaryBloodyMaryBloodyMary
Summary: After the events of Devil's Trap, the brothers follow a lead from their hospitalized father to a place where more remaining Colt bullets might be found as well as a way to the end of the decades old fight for revenge.
1. Can't Get A Break From Those Demons

**Disclaimer: I do not, in any way, own Sam, Dean, John, etc., etc, etc. **

A brand new Lincoln towncar pulled away from the rental's driveway. The salesman in the pink suit waved as the 2 guys inside backed out. The one driving had shaggy brown hair, and the one in shotgun had short brown hair. It was Sam and Dean Winchester.  
Dean sat uncomfortably in the seat, shifting as Sam turned the corner. He reached out to tune the radio, which had been set to classical. He tried not to vomit as the various stations of rap, pop, and talk radio tuned in, and then out again. Finally, he gave up. "I don't like this car."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Would you have rather rented the VW Bug?"

"In pink? Um... no. Not in any color. Especially when the license plate read Fxy Lady." Sam choked back a smile, and focused on driving. "All I know is tht I'm not driving this," Dean said.

"Suit Yourself." Sam said, coming to a smooth halt in front of the stop sign. Dean reached up to the cuts on his head, which had healed fairly quickly, although a couple had lightly scarred.

The car accident had nearly cost Sam, Dean, and their father, John their lives. It had certainly killed the car. It had been a 1967 Chevrolet Impala in black. And it had been Dean's baby. A semi had crashed right into the side, a perfect impact, driven by a possessed-by-the-devil truck driver.

They had left the car's bits and pieces at an auto shop down the road. Dean had refused to believe it was gone forever, so Sam had convinced the repairman to try his best, and they would be back for it in a month. The repairman, Bubba Covington, had laughed at them between chewing the straw between his two front teeth. But he'd agreed to keep the car "safe".

Their dad, John Winchester, was still in critical condition, at the nearest General Hospital. That hadn't stopped him from sending his 2 sons out to hunt demons though, of course not. He'd already sent them to a campsite to investigate a demon that took a liking to kidnapping girls and having a bit of a feast.

Sam had met another psychic there too. It had been his dad's friend's daughter, Lindsay. And she had been getting the same dream visions Sam had gotten before his girlfriend, Jess, had died. The similarities hadn't stopped there either. Their mom's had been killed by the same demon as well. And Lindsay had an older sibling as well, who had saved her skin from dying in a fire when she had been only 6 months old.

Sam and Dean had found the demon, and successfully killed it, although by accident. Sam had knocked over it's power source, an old chalice filled with blood. The demon had burst into flames on the spot, and all of it's victims had been returned safely.

Sam pulled into the hospital's visitor parking lot. It was a small hospital. Well, given it was a small town. Dean got out, virtually slamming the car door shut. They passed by the visitor's desk, waving hello to the receptionist, Lydia.

Dean always hated walking down the hallways to the hospital. He'd been in a coma for a short while after the accident, and had bargained with the angel of death per say, for his life. They turned into their dad's room, and were once again hit with the fact he was not okay.

John Winchester, while moved out out the ICU, was still in pretty bad shape. He had the IV drip still connected to his arm, and his head had a massive bruise on it, that had changed through a rainbow of colors in the weeks that had passed. He realized his head as the door swung open. He smiled as his two sons walked in.

John's room was like any other hospital room, walls blank, bed standard size, etc. But the nurses had taken a liking to him, and there were flowers spread across the room from various interns and nurses. Books were piled on the bedside table. And suitcases were piled on the chairs by the door. The lights had been off, and the only light had been the small dim lamp above him.

Dean flicked the lights on as he came in, as soon as he saw his dad was awake. "Hey, boys." John said. Sam half-frowned, looking at his dad's medical equipment. He wasn't all too comfortable seeing his father connected toevery machine known to man.  
"Hey dad," Dean said, and Sam murmured a hello as well. Both pulled the uncomfortable visitor's chairs up to his bed. "We killed the thing that was taking all the girls near that campsite."

John Winchester smiled broadly, "I knew you would." He closed his eyes momentarily, almost falling asleep before a nurse walked in, causing his eyes to jump open again.

"Good afternoon, Mr..." she checked the registry, "Winters." She looked at his hospital wristband, checking all the (fake) information, before pushing milligrams of meds into the IV. Sam and Dean were silent as the nurse did her job. She brought in another bouquet of roses from yet another nurse. John smirked at the flowers as the nurse finally walked out.

"Can you boys look into something else for me?" John asked them.

"Yeah, dad? What?" Dean responded, sitting up in his chair, ready for what John would ask them to do.

"I'm not sure exactly yet, but I have an address, If you guys go there, you might find something." John said, not saying any detail more. Sam looked at his dad like he needed information. Dean was ready to take that address. "Local's call it the haunted house of the neighborhood. It's at 816 Tamptom. Come back if there's nothing there, okay?" Both nodded.

Dean got up, and John reached for his Sam's hand. "Be safe Sammy." John said, feeling the meds kick in. "You too, Dean." Dean nodded and Sam let go of his dad's hand. They turned off the lights on the way out, but John was already way asleep.

They walked out to the towncar again, and Dean was looking at the piece of paper he'd written the address down on. The passed a man in the parking lot, on the way to the car. He was dressed in overalls with a straw hat on. They would have kept walking, except for the fact Sam had gotten a small glimpse of his eyes. They had been cold, lifeless, and overall, pitch black. As in possessed black.


	2. Unexpected Goodbye

The man in the overalls passed, and Sam stared after him. "What?" Dean asked his brother, who had stopped talking midsentence. Sam's eyes remained on the man with the black eyes.

'Dean, that guy..." He said, whispering and pointing to him.

"What about that guy." Dean said, staring where Sam was pointing.

Sam was silent, watching the man walk through the hospital's security line and visitor's center without even bothering to get a pass. He disappeared around the corner. "Nothing, never mind." Sam said, feeling a bit paranoid about the whole thing. He looked around. He must have just been visiting another patient.

He got into the driver's side of the towncar. He drove out of the parking lot, stopping to let the security guard inspect the trunk. Hospital policy. Aparently they didn't want any druggies smuggling meds out of the area.

"Hello there." The guard said, and Sam and Dean looked up.

They had never met the man before in their life. He didn't have the cold black eyes of the man in the overalls, but these eyes were worse. The boys remembered the eyes well. They had once been painted onto John's. This man's eyes were the color of flames, somewhere between orange and red and yellow. Dean got out of the car, moving faster than he ever had. Sam sat, with his hands on ten and two, ready to drive straight through the arm of the booth if he needed.

"How are you boys," he said, taunting them, his voice cold. "Long time no see. I see you survived that little car wreck." Sam's jaw clenched, and Dean reached for the gun hidden in the back of his jeans, covered by his shirt. The one small enough for them to sneak it past security, because the metal detectors really were out of order. The one with the power to kill this thing that had wreaked havoc into every aspect of their lives, and held their only chance of survival against this creature. The gun with the special name. the Colt.

The security guard smiled a nasty, broad grin that made Sam shudder and Dean grasp the gun even tighter. Sam's thoughts went back to the man in the overalls, currently in the same hospital wing as his father. He put the car in reverse, but felt the car move nowhere.

"Smart, Sammy, but not smart enough. You should have gone with your instinct and stopped the man from even getting past," the guard said, referring to the man in the overalls, of whom Sam was now one hundred percent sure was pure evil.

"Sam, what's he talking about?" Dean asked, not taking his eyes off the man.

"Dean, at this moment, one of my children is in this very hospital." The man said, in a low voice, sending chills down Dean's spine. "Walking slowly down the hallway where your very sick father currently lays, completely unconscious." Dean broke his stare with the man to glance back at the hospital, and then to Sam, who was wearing an identical look of horror. Dean's stomach dropped. Working through his horror, Sam was still trying to get the car to back up. It was hopeless. And he wasn't going to exit the car nearest the man either. His orange eyes flashed as he smiled yet again. "In his pocket is a small, yet powerful bomb."

"Dad," Dean said, barely a whisper. "No," he said louder, throwing the door open. He turned on his heel to run back inside. Sam pressed his foot down on the gas, and the car shot backwards. He jumped out the door, catching up to Dean easily with his long legs.

"You wont make it in time," The "security guard" called after them, and then he laughed. It was high pitched an plainly evil; it sounded reminiscent of Doctor Evil in some way. It echoed through the brothers' heads, as they ran faster, past the security and visitor's desk, Sam now in the lead. A demon was heading to blow up their father. Nothing else mattered as they raced down the small hallways, not caring about the aching in their sides.

The security guard stepped out in front of them, from a room. As if it had appeared out of nowhere. Sam and Dean skidded to a halt, just in time.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that," he said. "I want you two to stay alive, for now at least."

"Dad," Dean screamed down the hallway, past the man, his voice high pitched. This was when they needed the Colt, and Dean pulled it out, aiming in an instant, and shooting. He didn't even hesitate. But the man had already disappeared into black smoke. Too late, the last Colt bullet wasted. The last hope for killing this thing was gone. Dean regretted his action in an instant, but didn't have time to dwell on that fact. The sound echoed through the halls, and people started coming out of their rooms to see what the gunshot had been.

But the gunshot sounded like nothing compared to the sound they heard next. It was the loudest boom any of the had ever heard. The smoke alarms went off, and debris flew from around the corner. A little girl in a hospital gown came up to Sam and tugged his jeans. Sam looked down.

The girl's eyes flamed red, and she tilted her head eerily to the side as she spoke in a voice that was not her own. "There's going to be nothing left of him Sam. You're never going to see your father again. All that's left of him is pink mist now." Sam yanked his jeans away from the girl and took off running into the smoke.

He and Dean held their breaths, running deeper into the cloud of black mist. Dean knelt down and found the plaque that had been on the door, stating the room number. There was no door left. Flower petals from the various bouquets fluttered about, withered and wilted. It fluttered to the ground as Dean and Sam entered what used to be John Winchester's room.

It hadn't completely dawned on them; the prospect of hope had shone through until that moment, when they found the room completely in shambles. Traces of the IV and meds lay scattered everywhere. Metal rods that had been the hospital bed lay thrown about the room. Shattered glass form the vases that had held beautiful flower arrangements lay on the ground, though Sam and Dean didn't notice any of them, simply stepping on them like they were harmless.

Both of them had goosebumps, as they looked around the room for someone they wanted so desperately to be there. But he wasn't. The room held no sign a John Winchester had ever been there. Sam thought of how the girl had phrased it. Pink Mist.

His eyes watered. No, they had already thought their father was dead once before, more than once before. But he had always come back. Now was no different. He looked over at Dean, who looked like he was the one dead. His eyes, usually full of ambition, sat lifeless in his skull as he looked around the room, as if John was going to jump out from the mist and scream "April Fool's."

No one jumped. No one came forward.

A whisper crept around the room, although neither of them had opened up their mouth. It was the voice of the devil himself, it seemed.

"He's gone, boys." Sam locked eyes with Dean, and knew Dean had given up.

Dean had given up. How could that happen? His eyes held no trace of hope for their father at all. None. Dean believed John was dead. And so Sam did too.

The Winchester Brothers stood. Not moving even when the fire department came rushing in. Not when the police had asked to have a few questions with them. They stood, looking at the place where their father had spent his last living breathing moments. And now there was nothing left to even say John Winchester had ever walked the earth.

**Author's Note: Hey, guys! Hope you liked the chapter. Please review.**


	3. How To Cope

Chapter Three:

Dean and Sam stood still for about an hour, even while the fire department, bomb squad and police officers wove around the room. Even while being questioned over and over again, they stayed in the room, soaking up the loss. Their legs felt like they weren't attatched to their bodies. Dean's head was spinning like he was on the Teacup ride at Disneyland and Sam's stomach felt like it had a crater the size of Ohio in the bottom of it.

The hall they had stopped and shot in had been the psychiatric ward, so the only legal witnesses would have been nurses, who had not been around. The patients who had seen them shoot weren't legally witnesses. Which did work to their advantage in a way. Still, the main suspects were Sam and Dean. Who they thought were Ewan and Justin Winters. Under watch for suspicion of the murder of Dennis Winters

"Mr. Winters? Can we have a word with you?" A new officer came into the room, as she addressed Sam.

Sam looked up. "Again?" he asked in a weak voice to her. His voice was scratchy, from barely talking except for the mini questioning.

"Yes, I'm sorry." She said, although her voice wasn't exactly what you would call sympathetic. She led them out of the room this time, although neither of them was happy about it. Then again, They really didn't want the police running background checks on Ewan, Justin and Dennis Winters only to find out they had been triplets in Lawrence, Kansas who died in a car wreck when they were 5. Then, they would have been in hotter water. So the remaining Winchesters followed the officer.

"I'm Renee Carter," She introduced herself as they sat down in waiting room chairs, which had been turned into a makeshift crime scene investigation. They pulled up a table. A 5 month old copy of 'O' magazine lay discarded next to an issue of Teen People with Ashlee Simpson on it, and the 2004 Emmy Preview copy of Entertainment Weekly. The officer flipped through the 'O' magazine, immersed in an article about how to lose weight faster than ever on Oprah's diet, before remembering again why she was there. She scooped up all 3 magazines, stacked them up in a neat pile, and put them to the right of a briefcase that was already overflowing with papers. Dean hoped it wasn't what they had pulled up on the real Winter's Family. He didn't let the worry show on his face, though. Partly because his sadness overshadowed every other emotion he had combined.

"Would you mind hashing out what happened earlier?" She asked, pen in hand, as if it were a simple case of a teen shoplifting. As if no one had died. She really didn't care, and was making no effort to fake it.

"We've already _hashed_ it out four times already," Sam retorted, "Do we have to _hash _it out again?" He practically spat out the words at the officer. She was old, and frumpy.

The look she gave Sam was one similar to a toad's. She pulled her sweater tighter and her eyes bulged out as she said, "Well, then, can you _rehash _it out for us again, maybe for the fifth time? Mr. Winters? Mr. Winters?" She asked turning to each Winchester.

Her voice was nasal, and the louder she got the higher it went. It was like she'd been on a steady diet of helium her entire life. Dean already had a headache, so he decided to answer her right away. He didn't want to make her angry; then again, if she got angry enough that helium might make her head explode...no, Dean, no, he reminded himself. Let's not try any new experiments.

It wasn't a lengthy alibi either, Sam thought. Why did they have to keep repeating it? It was almost as if they were waiting for an inconsistency in their stories. As if that would prove anything.

"We were on our way up to see our dad, and we were about to turn the corner to go into his ward when we heard an explosion, and we went running." Dean said, softly, summing it down for her. Dean had never felt so sad in his life. He didn't get sad. At all. When something went wrong he got mad, and he got _even_. But something in his brain was triggering Dean to want to lie down. Sam was the one having the traditional Winchester reaction to a crisis. And Dean was sitting there complying with the law enforcement. Where had the real Dean gone?

A little voice in the back of his head said, _With John, _but Dean shook that thought out of his head right away. "That's it?" Officer Carter asked, and Dean nodded. Sam folded his arm across his chest, eyes dark, nodding as well.

"Can we go back up now?" He asked. Officer Carter would give them 10 minutes. Apparently, the janitorial staff had to get in to clean up the glass.

"It's like she's never lost a parent, and at her age, I highly doubt that. Her parents are either centuries old, or six feet under. And I'm betting, because no human is immortal, their 6 feet down in a box somewhere. And I mean, giving us only 10 minutes. I'd like to see her stop us if we wanted to stay longer. We'll take as long as we want." Sam growled the entire way back to the room, but Dean was glad when he finally fell silent, when at the door.

Now that the room had been cleared and somewhat cleared out, you could see how bad the room was charred. What was left of it was blackened. The chairs were dismantled or overturned. The hospital bed, IV, and equipment was everywhere, wires sprawled every which way. Glass covered the floor in a deadly blanket of spikes, from the flower vases. The cards from various nurses and doctors that had taken a liking to him, addressed to Mr. Winters, Dennis and even Mr. Denny were scattered, burnt at the edges. To top it off, the room had flower petals strewn about, giving it the look of a funeral.

Dean's eyes misted over, but he blinked it away fast enough so that he was sure Sam hadn't seen it. _What's with you? _He thought to himself. He hadn't felt the urge to cry for a very long time. He'd been maybe about 6 or 7 the last time he'd truly cried.

Sam was picking up a book from behind the safety of a lamp shade and a chair. Dean wove his way through the river of wires as Sam called him over. They flipped through the pages to find them filled up with tight neat scrawl. It was a journal. And no surprise to Sam or Dean. John had kept a journal all his life; of all the things he'd been through and seen.

It felt like a scene from a movie as Sam flipped another page to where 2 pictures were being pressed. One was a picture of their mother. Dean had seen this picture enough times to not be shocked by their mother's smiling face.

The second picture struck home to both of the boys. It was Sam and Dean on their father's lap. They were young, Sam was a toddler. Dean didn't remember it at all, although he remembered a lot from when he was that young. They were at a theme park, in the front of a fake background like they were in a castle.

They all smiled broadly, and Dean had red popsicle juice running down his hands and face. He was looking up at John and laughing. John had been laughing as well, because his eyes were creased at the edges, like always when he laughed. Sam was a bouncing toddler on his dad's other knee. He wore the typical baby smile, full of missing teeth.

Dean racked his memory for the day, but came up empty. Had he remembered various demons his dad had fought when he was that little? Yes. But not a fun day at a theme park? He hoped his entire life wouldn't be filled with bad memories.

His eyes welled up again, and this time he deliberately looked at Sam, whose eyes were also glazed. Sam smiled, and laughed at the family in the picture. He blinked, letting one tear slide slowly down from his right eye. Dean did the same, smiling at the old picture.

So they cried in the hospital room like they'd never cried before. Sure, they thought they'd lost their dad before, but this time it was solid. He wasn't coming back. They cried like any normal person would, after losing their father.

They were back at their motel, and the book was on the bedside table, with the pictures pressed inside. Dean sat on the edge of the bed, with the Colt in his hand. He was beating himself up about the last bullet. Sam hadn't mentioned it to him yet. But it still didn't erase the fact he had killed the very last chance they had of ever killing this thing. And Dean hated himself for that.

Sam was typing away at a long email to a college friend. About losing their dad, of course, but omitting the parts about demons, obviously. Dean looked across the street, noticing something there he hadn't before. A bar. He grabbed his coat, as Sam sent the email. Sam guessed where he was going, and followed him, locking the motel room door on the way out.

The walked across the very vacant main road through the town and walked into the tiny bar. Although, size didn't exactly matter in this case, just as long as it had something alcoholic in it. Which it did. Both ordering a beer, they sat at a table generally far away from the rest of the few people inside.

"What are we gonna do?" Sam asked, quietly, "About... now."

"Well, I was thinking we could check out that house dad was talking about, fix that, and then find another way to kill this bitch." Dean replied, thinking about their chances with out the colt. Which, generally was zero. But it was the only thing that mattered now.

But wait. Who was Sam kidding? _Nothing_ mattered anymore.

Dean had been so careless with that bullet. How could he have done that? In an open hospital with barely anytime to aim. Knowing fully well this thing could just as easily gotten away. It hadn't been a sure chance... why had he done it.

Dean raised the drink and took a long gulp, and Sam followed his lead. They both finished at about the same time. A nearby waitress noticed, and cat walked over in her 3 inch heels. "Hey, guys, I'm Rose," she said in her waitress, I'm here to serve you, nothing else until my break, voice. "If you want more, I'm right here. Our special today is extra hot wings with dipping sauce. Just tell me what you want, 'cause anything you need, I'm your girl."

**Authors Note: OKOK, people. I know it's sad, but I want to hear your feedback. I heart feedback. lol. **


	4. Roses Are Red

Chapter 4:

Dean and Sam looked up at the blonde waitress addressing them. Obviously perfectly aware of how gorgeous she looked, she wore black three inch stilettos that probably should have managed to effectively cripple any normal person. Just thinking about it made Sam and Dean less nervous about the pain of getting their behinds kicked by demons on a daily basis. Those heels made it look like tee-ball. Yet she walked in the flawlessly, not even stumbling once. Her red miniskirt almost came up too high, and the house shirt was a black button up, but she'd only buttoned up three quarters of it. Her long blond hair was loosely hanging, and caught every bit of light in the place. Her purple amethyst eyes, however, were the most captivating part about her. Dean stared up into them, forgetting everything else in that moment.

"So what'll it be?" She asked. She was the kind of girl that every other girl hated. Despised, actually. Like the head cheerleader who caught every guy's eyes in high school. Just the way she moved looked like a dance in itself. She twisted a strand of her hair in her hand, waiting for either Winchester to answer. It was like she was practically waiting for the photographer to run in and snap her picture at any moment.

Sam spoke up first, regaining stamina before Dean. "More of this." He said, handing her the empty beer bottles. "Or, if you have something stronger?" She nodded. "And some of those wings you were talking about." She nodded, smiling. Her teeth were straight, but a natural straight. Not like she had braces and they were aligned to the books, but they were straight.

"Comin' right up, boys," she said, batting her eyelashes. Her voice was right in the middle pitch, but the way she spoke made the words seem almost suggestive. Dean was entranced. Perfectly entranced.

"Look's like that's Victoria... and she's got no secrets," Dean muttered, resulting in an elbow to the chest by Sam as he watched her as she walk away. Dean gave him a 'what gives?' look.

Sam rolled his eyes. Always get a girl to get Dean Winchester out of a lull. Well, at least his brother wasn't blaming himself. He hated seeing Dean so down like that. But having him snap out of it so fast kind of worried Sam too.

_Come on,_ Sam thought _either you want him one way or not._

Sam shot a look at Rose, the waitress. _Well,_ he thought apprecatively, _can you blame him?_ She turned around and brought them back to glasses full of something pink in color that neither Sam nor Dean recognized.

"House brew. Manager's special," she said when she returned. "I'd be careful, though, It's strong." Dean raised the glass to his lips unhesitatingly.

It was pretty strong, but not the strongest drink Dean had ever had before. It was warm sliding down his throat. Sam took a sip as well, and choked a bit, sputtering as the drink burned his throat. Rose laughed as Sam coughed. "That's okay. Not a lot of people _can_ drink it." Still laughing, she turned to Dean. "I'm surprised you can. I certainly can't." Dean smiled and took another sip. Rose left to tend to another customer who had just come in.

"How about that." Dean said. Sam took another tentative sip. It got less strong the more you drank, he realized. Well, it was like that with most drinks. Dean was practically chugging his.

"Slow down, Dean," Sam said, watching as the pink liquid slowly disappeared from Dean's glass. Rose was watching Dean with a half-shocked, half-impressed smile on her face. Obviously, the house special was not often drank in this manner. Dean could always stomach the strongest of drinks.

Rose came back like a good waitress when Dean's glass was empty. However, she asked him if he wanted water instead. Dean gave her a look that plainly said 'Bring on the booze, I'm in a bar, I don't want water.'

She took the hint, and looked at Sam before pouring more. "Just making sure he's not the designated driver," she said and Sam smiled.

"So, where you guys from?" She asked, making normal 'friendly waitress' conversation.

"Los Angeles." Dean said from nowhere. Which would have been fine, but he said it at the same time Sam said, "Maine." They weren't anywhere remotely close. They looked at each other, both giving the other a 'I told you _I _had this one' look.

Rose gave a bemused smirk at their wordless interaction. "He's from L.A., I live in Maine," Dean said offered quickly, the words coming out of his mouth before he could think.

"You said you were from Maine," she said, pointing in Sam's direction.

"Never mind him," Sam said. "He get's that way when he's drunk."

"I'm not drunk," Dean said, his voice gaining a cocky edge. Sam kicked him under the table. "Oh, yeah," Dean said, slurring his speech a little bit. "Brothers, taking some time off for a road trip. You?" Still looking a little suspicious, Rose took the bait.

"I've lived here, in the middle of nowhere since I was 10. I remember living in New York, though." She smiled in remembrance, but her gaze drifted from Dean to a spot behind him, through the glass window. There was a man out there, pacing and obviously waiting for someone.

"You know him?" Dean asked, his words starting to slur together.  
"Yeha, he's a family friend." Rose said, her voice giving the impression that her thoughts had left the two occupants of the table altogether. "I'll be right back. And no more refills." She waltzed her way outside, and approached the guy.

"Now?" She asked him, her eyes flickering to the Winchester's table. She was 100 percent sure that if she spoke too loud, they would be able to hear her. The glass was thin, newly replaced from a bar fight a week before. She could see Sam eyeing her in suspicion.

"Rose." The man said, "You beg me for months, and now your suddenly not ready?" He was tall, blond, and extremely muscular. He was the kind you'd be afraid to sit next to on the subway, or not want to be alone in a room with.

"Jasper. I have customers. It's barely dark out." Her mascara laced eyes, looked up into his gold colored eyes and he sighed. He'd given in.

"Later. Meet me there." He said, and she nodded, understanding the place he was referring to. He nodded. "Don't be late." She nodded. "I'm serious. Last chance." Once more, she nodded. "Rose. Are you sure about this?"

"As sure as I am that that guy," she pointed at Dean, "is going to be puking his guts out in twenty minutes." She smiled. She walked back into the restaurant and Jasper started down the street.

Sam had decided Dean had had enough of the house brew. He put one of Deans arms over his shoulder and tipped Rose. "See you tomorrow morning maybe?" Sam shrugged as he tried to support Dean's weight. They hobbled across the street, glad that there weren't any cars.

Dean crashed on the bed first thing when he got inside. Sam shook his head. Maybe one glass less wouldn't have killed him, Sam thought. Too late now. Sam showered and got into his own bed.

He was almost worried for Dean. He had cried, blamed himself and then gotten over it. He'd past through the stages of acceptance faster than anyone else would have. Certainly after having a parent die... And who had Rose been talking to. Family friend, she had said. But why had she looked so anxious talking to him?

Events from his past up to his dad's death flashed in front of his eyes. He was trying hard to fall asleep, but his efforts were useless. Once he actually thought he was going to fall asleep, he saw a huge flash of white light in front of his eyes. At first he thought it was lightning, but when the headache started to come he knew what it really was. A Premonition. He sat up straight and immediatly the white light overtook his vision.

Not too far away from Sam and Dean's room, Rose walked down the tight alleyway. "Ready?" Jasper was already there. He had been leaning against the brick of an old building. Rose nodded, a fierce look in her eyes as he stared straight at Jasper.

"Lets get this done." Jasper said. His eyes narrowed in on hers, and then to her neck. Right where the jaw ended and her neck started. He moved closer and then, went for his prey. Venom dripping from his teeth as they connected with Rose's flesh.


	5. Hangover Food

Chapter 5

Sam passed out immediatly after his premonition. It had been one of the hardest visions to live through. The color and quality of the vision had been strikingly near perfect. It was like fireworks inside his skull. It was long and he had no choice but to sit through it as he writhed in pain.

He'd alway sort of understood why the visions _hurt_ so much. Well, he was recieving pictures, sights that were not his. No normal person's brain was wired for something like that. He was picking up things he wasn't supposed to. So when a new vision presented itself, his brain was struggling to make it come forward.

Dean was dead asleep. And Sam knew that Dean, The King of Hangovers, slept like he was in a coma when he was drunk. He didn't even try to wake Dean up. Once, he'd tried to wake Dean up after a hangover as teenagers (someone had spiked the drink at a party), and ended up with a black eye for a month. Sam dug through his suitcase, trying to find the Tylenol he always carried with him.

He popped three caplets down his throat, knowing it would have minimal effect, if any at all. He'd actually downed what felt like should have been a dangerous amount, the pain had been so bad. It had been Tylenol PM, and he'd practically fainted on the spot.

He tried to remember the vision. A rapid series of pictures, voices, memories that were his own and Dean's. With a sinking in his stomach, he realised this past vision had been like none other. It didn't predict the future, and he knew it. Because the vision had pictures and voices of people who were no longer alive. His mom. Jess. _His dad. _

It had started off with a bright white flash before cascading into a series of old memories in the form almost like a slideshow. His dad, coming back from a long hunting trip, when Sam had been ten. The first time he ever saw Jess. His mom, standing over him. Dean and Sam in that awful hospital room. Jess blushing and saying yes, when he'd asked her out. His dad, giving Sam and Dean each a gun to put under their beds. Picture after picture, his life flashed before his eyes, literally. It wasn't like any premonition he'd ever had before at all. And he remembered three things that didn't quite fit. Someone whistling, the number thirty-six, and a fire crackling in a brick fireplace.

Sam sat down and exhaled. All that pain and no gain. It was a new thing for him, to see his life displayed in front of him like that. Then again, he'd only started getting visions about seven months before. Or, if you counted the fact that barely anyone else believed in the things they fought; and the fact that most people didn't have visions at all... anything was possible. So his "life's story wrapped up in a vision" didn't seem all too outlandish.

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Dean rolled over and flicked his eyes open. He sat up, not realising that was a very bad mistake to make. He regretted sitting up, and slumped back onto the bed. He covered his eyes with a pillow like a teenager not wanting to wake up for school. Sam snickered and said, "Morning Sleeping Beauty," and opened the blinds.

Dean moaned and groaned something about closing the blinds and the sun was so bright it should be banned from the morning, only it was a bit more colorful than that. Sam didn't close the blinds, but looked out of them, and across the street, which, had cars on it, zooming past occasionally. It was comforting to know they weren't the only outsiders to pass through the boonies. Dean muttered something incomprehensible, and Sam looked down at his brother.

"What?"

"Food," Dean said, taking the pillow away from his mouth. "I need hangover food." Sam chuckled at that.

"Which would be..." Sam said, letting the sentence drag for Dean to fill in the food.

"Waffles and Chocolate and Cheetos. And Mountain Dew Code Red, not the normal stuff, Code Red." He rolled over and replaced the pillow. Sam sighed, not knowing where anything in the town was. So he set off across the street, to the only restaurant he knew, hoping the only person from this town he knew would be working there.

Rose wasn't in there.

Sam approached the bartender, who was scrubbing down wine glasses and hanging them up where they belonged. "Do you guys serve breakfast here?" Sam knew they probably did, but Chocolate Chip Waffles and Cheetos with Mountain Dew was definitly not on it. He took a look anyway to see what else they had. The bartender pointed to a table, where all the menus were stacked.

"Hey Stranger." A voice said behind him. Sam turned around and saw Rose. He relaxed. "What can I do for you?" She asked, her eyes wide. She looked tired; the circles under her eyes were a deep purple. They almost matched her eyes, but her the latter sparkled still. Her makeup was caked on to the point where it was almost over-done. Her hair looked like it hadn't been washed, but she was still...well, Rose.

"Hey, can you tell me where to find a 7-11 or something?" Sam asked.

"Lemme take you down to the Miller's. General Store. Only place in town." Rose shook her head. "Were out in the middle of no where Mr. Maine Man." Wow, the only place to buy packaged food was called a general store. What was this the 1800's?

"Sam." He said, so she wouldn't refer to him as Maine Man. They walked a block down to Miller's General Store, which was small, but had everything they needed. Eggo waffles, cheetos, and Mountain Dew. Code Red _and _the regular stuff. Rose was nice enough to carry one of the bags into the room.

Sam was relieved when he saw that no notes, guns, pictures, or journals had been left out and open for Rose to see. It looked like a normal hotel room. Just two brothers, on a road trip. Sam hoped Dean remembered their alibis. It would be a bit awkward to explain if Dean insisted they were from Florida or Texas or something far from L.A. or Maine. "Morning Sunshine, aren't you looking pretty this morning," Rose said, laughing to herself as she looked at Dean, finally sitting up and on the edge of his bed. Dean looked up at her, disoriented. "I'm Rose, remember?"

Dean nodded and reached for the cheetos. Sam put the waffles in the mini-toaster the room provided for them, and gave Dean the bottle of Code Red. Dean opened his mouth to say something, but something else was coming out. Rose rushed over a trash can as fast as she could, which wasn't exactly in time, and covered her eyes. The trash can did thankfully get most of it as Dean emptied his stomach. "Don't worry, I've had my share of hangovers," she said as Dean went to apologize. She looked down, scrutinizing the damage. She shook her head. "Well, I never really liked these shoes anyway." She slipped them off and put them by the door.

Sam felt like the mom, rushing to Dean and back, making his food. Rose was a big help, for someone who had just met them the night before. "House mix is awful. I told you it was strong." She handed Dean another waffle, and looked around. "How long are you guys gonna be here?" She asked.

"Not sure." Sam replied.

Rose nodded and looked at her watch. "I think my shift starts soon, Cook'll be mad if im not there." She said goodbye to Sam and kissed Dean on the cheek. "Feel better." Dean smiled as she picked up her shoes and walked out the door.

"I should get hungover more often," he said, laying back down.

Sam sat on his own bed, thinking. That vision had been on his mind since he woke up. Especially the 36 part. It didn't fit at all, but somehow was in every part of his vision. It was in the backgrounds of everything. It flashed by in between every voice. And he had tried to figure out everything.

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He'd gone online, and looked up the number on everything from HellHounds to Google. Searching everything and anything and nothing came up. Trying to cannect it to any demon he knew. He was getting tired. Maybe his head was screwing with him. But this number was always at the back of his brain. An hour after, he gave up.

It wasn't until Dean got up around 8 o clock to take a shower that something popped into his head. He shot a look at the journal, with a wild idea. It was his last shot, and he was almost sure it wouldn't work. But anything was possible... He opened the book to page 36 and gasped.

**Author's Note: Review! What's that? I don't see you reviewing! Oh, come on, review! Good reader. **

**I wanna know what u guys think! Write me! WWBD. **


	6. Bullets

The page in front of Sam made him realize his vision had NOT been for nothing. And if the vision's number 36 had NOT meant this 36 then it was a pretty freakin good coincidence. He reread his dad's handwriting over again, and still didn't believe what he was seeing. He looked up to see if Dean was still in the shower. He wasn't going to freak out over anything until he was sure he wasn't seeing things. What a resume that would make, hallucinating psychic.

He was dreaming again, no he wasn't, he still felt the headache. Then it was a joke. No, it couldn't be. He tried everyway that it could be fake, coming up dry. It was, thankfully, reality.

He traced the detailed drawing on the opposing page. It was a detailed, down to the very last scratch, drawing of the Colt. And the headline above said simply, "Bullets".

Dean came out of the bathroom, and knew something had happened. It was almost as if he could feel it in the air or something. He looked at Sam who held the book out to him. Dean swore as he read it. He looked at Sam, "I've flipped through this book 10 times already, how did I miss this page?" Sam shrugged, and told him about the vision. "Sammy, you should have woken me up."

Sam laughed. "Yeha, it would have taken a herd of elephants to wake you up. It was right after you'd fallen asleep." Dean smirked, and nodded in agreement.

"This is..." He couldn't finish the sentence. "This is..." Sam knew exactly how he felt. "So do you think dad thought..."

"That there were more colt bullets? yes." Sam finished his sentence for him.

"But why didn't he tell us?" Dean asked, looking at the sketch of the gun.

"We didn't need them then." Sam said simply. Dean nodded. He looked at the list of 8 coordinates on the page. They stretched across the world. Next to each coordinate was a name. "And take a look at the next page. Dad had a pretty good idea on what was keeping them safe." Dean flipped the page and found himself face-to-face with tight small facts. All about vampires.

"The names..." Dean said, reffering to the names after the coordinates.

"Im not sure yet. Maybe groups of vampires. I know its uncommon, but it does happen." Sam said. "Or maybe were wrong altogether. Maybe it's people he knows there. His friends."

"There's one way to find out for sure." Dean said. They pulled out driving maps, atlases, the computer, and spread them across the room. Whatever was left of Dean's hangover had disappeared at the prospect of more bullets. Which meant killing this demon that had caused their life to be less-than-normal, to say the least, wasn't impossible. They could kill it. For good. And with 13 more bullets, could kill other demons as well. Sam wasn't tired anymore. He couldn't see how he ever was. Fighting demons gave them both an enormous boost of adrenaline that nothing else could.

"Coordinate?" Dean asked. Sam read out a coordinate, and Dean carefully traced it on the giant foldout map. "North Africa. Egypt." He starred the place where the coordinates met. "Next." This went on for half an hour as they found the places where the coordinates met, and starred the cities. One in Africa, one in Italy, One in North Western United States (Washington state to be exact), Brazil, Argentina, One in Russia, and the last two sets of coordinates ended up being in Vancouver and Michigan.

"What now?" Dean asked, after they were done. He stared at the map. All across the globe.

"Well, I think Dad had a hunch about the one in Vancouver. He underlined it." Sam said, showing Dean the page. "I think we should check it out."

"You _think_?" Dean asked, "I _know_ I'm checking it out. And we should see how long we can rent that car for, cuz I'm hearing road trip."

Sam pulled out the computer. He was going to look up the city. "Im gonna see if there were any unexplained killings near there. Maybe people thought they were bear mauls or something. Anything that might lead to vampires being there."

"Yeha, cuz the general population doesn't exactly believe Vampires are real." Dean agreed. He was set in his mind. They were _going _to get these bullets. And they were NOT gonna let this thing get away from them again. He smiled at the picture of them at the theme park. "This is for you, dad." He whispered before kneeling by Sam to look at the computer screen.

------------------------ ----------------------------- -------------------------- ------------------------- ----------------

Rose paced anxiously in her apartment. Jasper was supposed to be here by now. With orders, but more importantly food. Not food in the human sense, but food to her.

She didn't know why Jasper had tried to talk her out of this. She loved the feeling of the venom pulsing through her veins instead of her blood. The fact she couldnt die, or bruise, she was invinceable. She could have jumped from the top floor and lived, walking away with out a scratch. She put her tongue to her teeth. Her teeth were sharper now, to tear through flesh. She could live forever, at 24. Who wouldn't want that,

She wondered what would have happened if she hadn't met Jasper. She had been in Italy for her spring break, with some friends. They'd met in a bar, on a rainy day, and they'd started to talk. She always knew there was something different about him. She later found out he was supposed to find a new victim. But she hadn't known that when she asked him to dance with her. Or when she asked him to dinner. But he was the one who'd said yes...

And after a year, he told her. And instead of having the normal reaction, she wanted to be like him. He hadn't scared her away, she wanted to be like him. He said he couldn't. Even though he was on orders, he couldn't do it. Claiming he loved her too much. She'd run back to her childhood home. And then a year later, he'd come back.

She didn't tell anyone about him, not that they would believe her. Nonetheless, he'd never left her mind. She knew she was partly crazy for wanting this. But another part of her knew she would be getting a chance most people would envy. And when Jasper had come back and asked her if she still wanted it she had to say yes. She was his last chance, he had to turn someone. He had strict orders from whoever he served to find a new one. A new prey. They needed someone to protect something, he didn't say what.

It didn't matter if she was his last chance. She was a chance nonetheless. It was an idiotically easy choice for her.

So he said he needed to prepare himself, and he did. Prepare himself to make sure that he didn't literally kill her while trying to change her. He came and waited for her outside the bar when he was ready. And then later that night... it happened. She put her hand on the bite mark that had somewhat faded from the night before. She had been surprised that the brothers hadn't noticed. But then again, it probably looked like a plain old scratch now.

She heard a knock at the door. She ran to answer it, each step a dance. It was Jasper. She was ready for whatever he said she had to do.

------------- --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dean looked at the screen, at the last report Sam had pulled up on the city in Vancouver. "Sammy, I think were going to Canada."

**Authors Note: OK, i need a new car for Dean... and im asking you guys to tell me what you think it should be... ummm... choices are vintage Mustang Convertible... Pontiac GTO... or a Chevy Chevelle. And I cant go on w/o a car. So put it in your review either one of those 3 cars, or if you have another request... and im gonna need at least 10 votes before I keep going... so I would review. OK? Ill look forward to those reviews. **


	7. On The Way Out

Jasper was pacing Rose's apartment, chanting some form of Latin. Rose sat at her kitchen counter, scribbling away with a black pen, occasionally looking up at Jasper and smirking at his Latin. Jasper stopped reciting the dead language when she snorted at a paricularly funny part and looked up at Rose. After a moment, he asked, "So you're agreeing to the plan?" Rose didn't look up from her letter, but nodded.

"That's kind of why I'm like this, isn't it? Or was there too much small print on that contract?" She smirked, looking up through her lashes, but Jasper didn't find the humor in that. 

"Just saying that a lot of new..recruits...don't necessarily 'agree' with their first assignment." He used his fingers for quotation marks, and sighed. "I know I didn't. He was prepared to send you another task.

"Oh, the ever mysterious He," she said sarcastically. "Are you ever going to tell me who the hell that is?" Jasper gave her a look, and she knew immediately that it would be a 'no' once more. Jasper continued his train of thought.

"And you may need some time to adjust, maybe not go back into society. The smell of humans.. well, it may be too much to handle right away."

"I'm peaches and cream with this one Jas." Rose said, looking up after she signed the letter. She folded it into fourths and put it in an envelope. It was her resignation to her waitressing job at the bar. She'd miss it; the cook, Cicero, had become family to her. But now she had priorities. She pulled her long hair into a loose ponytail and closed the envelope, tucking it into her purse. Jasper was eying her carefully. "What?" she snapped.

"Nothing, Its just you look the exact same as the first time I saw you." He smiled. If she still had blood flowing in her body, her face would have flushed. But now, she just looked down. "He is very grateful for you taking on this task." Jasper leaned over and kissed her cheek and left the room. Rose took a moment to savor the kiss on the cheek before getting cardboard boxes and packing up her entire apartment.

* * *

Sam zipped the last zipper to the suitcase. The room looked completely bare, like a normal hotel room. Sam checked under the bed for the third time even so. If they left anything it might be dooming. Like a phone number and a name. Or a gun. Leaving a weapon under a hotel bed wasn't the best situation in their case. It was empty under both beds. "Sammy, come on," Dean barked from the passenger set of the town car. "Car aint gonna drive itself. Altough if it did, that might make up for its total turn-off factor." Sam shook his head and pulled himself up from his knees. One last look around the room, and he turned off the light.

He turned in their room keys and slid into the drivers seat. They were on their way to the dealer who'd rented them the car. They were going to turn it in, and the repairman who had Dean's car, Bubba Joe, was going to bring them a new car. One they could take on a road trip. At least until he finished with the Impala, which apparently he was making progress on. Sam didn't know what kind of car he was going to bring them, but Dean hoped it was nothing like the towncar. And he might die if it were a freaking VW Beetle or, god forbid, a minivan.

They weren't the only car on the road to the dealer's, which made them feel a bit like a chip off the block of modern society, rather than spinning around in their own private universe. Sam made a sharp u-turn that sent Dean falling into the window.

"Damn, Sammy, I knew there was a reason I never let you drive," Dean complained.

"I learned from you," Sam said, a smirk on his face.

"Yes, but it was you that preferred to stay home and do your homework rather than drive anywhere. Plus, you didn't think I was going to let you practice driving anywhere near my baby, did you?"

"I think you love that car more than me," Sam said sarcastically, putting a fake pout on.

"Damn straight," Dean agreed, laughing a bit as Sam pulled into the dealers, and the man in the pink suit stood waving at them. "Are you here to return?" He asked in his high voice. Sam nodded, and Dean scanned the small lot for Joe. He saw him within an instant and then his eyes flicked to the car next to him. Dean's heart rose. It was gorgeous. Black. Vintage. 1967 Pontiac. He loved it. He might get behind the wheel of this one. Hell, he would probably throw himself into it and kill anybody who got in his way to get to it.

Dean climbed out of the car and walked over to Joe. "Well, here she is," Joe said, as if introducing Dean to the car and the car to Dean. "Nothing like the Impala, but she'll do for now." He handed Dean the keys. Dean liked the feeling of keys in his hand. He'd _missed_ that feeling. Sam came over to them, patted Dean on the shoulder in mock-comfort, and looked at the car. He paid Joe and Joe tipped his baseball cap. "Y'all take good care of her now."

Dean turned the ignition and the car flared up. It was a nice sound. "Look, its got a tape player!" Dean said, noticing things on the dashboard. His own Impala had a cassette player. In the crash, only one tape had somehow managed to survive. Dean had it tucked away safely in his suitcase, expecting the car to have been a new model with a cd player and automatic air fresheners. No. This was a _car_.

Dean drove back through the town, driving way above the speeding limit. There seemed, for those moments, the only thing on Dean's mind was to get to Vancouver, Canada, for some good old fashioned revenge. Nothing mattered other than that. Hey, it wasn't like they had anything better to do with their lives.

They drove past the bar, hotel, Millers, and then they were nearly at the town boundary. They were passing an elegantly styled apartment complex when Dean stopped the car rather violently, sending Sam forward in the seat. "Wha-" Sam went to ask, but Dean was already out of the car. What? Was it going to blow up or something? If it was, shouldn't they be running the _opposite _direction? Sam got out of the passenger seat and looked ahead of where Dean was walking.

Of Course. The only thing that would make Dean stop so abrubtly had to be something of the female gender. It was Rose, in all of her high-heeled, manicured, blonde glory. She was carrying boxes out to her car, as if she were moving and in a hurry. She smiled, recognizing them, and put the box in the trunk of her car. "Well, hi there, Lost on your way out of town?"

What was Dean doing talking to a friendly waitress when they were on their way to Vancouver, to kill the thing that had cursed their family from a time that Sam was too little to remember? That was top on their priorities, not chatting up a hot waitress at her apartment complex. Then again, maybe the opportunity of an empty bedroom merely upstairs was just too much for Dean to pass up.

"Well, we _are _leaving." Dean said, taking some boxes from her and walking them to her trunk. "But, we can spare a few minutes." He put the boxes in the trunk which seemed bigger from the inside. "God, you can put a body in this trunk," Dean commented, not realizing his words as he said them. There were already six full sized moving boxes in the trunk, and much more room.

Rose laughed an airy laugh at the trunk comment, the glint in her eyes making it look almost as if there was a secret behind the chuckle. Sam eyed her suspiciously as Rose put her hand on Dean's shoulder. "Well, thank you for helping me."

_There is no time to flirt now, Dean, _Sam thought.

"Where _are _you going?" Sam asked, and Rose turned to look at him.

"Up to Canada. My grandma's kinda sick. I'm the only family left." Her eyes looked at the floor. Sam tried to find her eyes. Something about the way she said that made Sam suspicious. The way she barely made eye contact, or how her voice didn't shake at all. _Okay, _Sam thought, _now I'm paranoid._ He shook the frivolous thought that she was following them from his mind. "How about y'all?"

"Well--" Dean said, completely ready to tell her their plans. Sam couldn't believe it, he had to save this.

"Were not sure yet, just gonna let the road lead us," Sam improvised on the spot. Rose looked down into the trunk for a second and Sam looked at Dean incredulously. _Let's go, _he mouthed and started walking back to the car.

"Thank you again," Rose said and she and Dean said a leisurely goodbye as Sam slammed the door so hard he thought the hinges might come off. Where the hell were Dean's freaking priorities?


	8. Cicero

After what seemed an hour of leisurely chatting with Rose, Dean finally came back to the car. He sighed as he rolled down the window and put the key in the ignition. "Where were we now?" He said, absentmindedly, sighing in self-satisfaction.

_Oh, nothing, _Sam thought spitefully, _Just trying to drive to another country to find what may be our last chance to seek revenge on the demon who we've been trying to hunt for quite some time now. Twenty-two years, actually. Nothing big, like I said. _He had to struggle to keep quiet. But who could blame him? He didn't like anything or anyone getting in his way at killing this thing.

"Well, excuse me, Mr. Social Introvert," Dean said in response, "She may come in handy if we ever come back to this hicktown later. Dad made friends too."

_What? _Had Dean just heard Sam's thoughts?

_Can you hear me? _Sam concentrated.

"Well, yeah, stupid, you're talking to me." Dean looked up from the radio he was trying to tune, giving Sam the 'what are you smoking?' look.

_No, you're hearing my thoughts,_ Sam directed at him again. Dean's jaw slacked a bit, and his expression then was more like 'What are WE smoking?' "Let me try," Dean said and tried to think something to Sam. It didn't work. "You try it again." Dean ordered.

_Can you hear me?_ Sam said, the first thing that came to his mind.

"Come on, try it," Dean said, obviously not hearing the last question. Sam tried again with the telepathy, but nothing happened. "What the heck was up with that?" Dean said, putting his foot on the gas pedal and his eyes on the road. Neither of them said a word about the mind-to-mind connection they'd just had. Sam made a mental note to be more careful with his thoughts toward Dean. He didnt want him hearing something he didn't necessarily want to hear. Weren't thoughts supposed to be private? Sam wanted the freedom to call Dean _anything_ behind his back without him knowing. If Sam wanted to call Dean an asshole without fear of getting his spleen ripped out, he had that right. Whatever happened to freedom of thought?

Sam just wished all these new "powers" could just come out at once. But no, instead, every once in a while, he'd discover a new talent that wasn't one-hundred percent human. And the new power usually came right after he'd adjusted to life with the old power. And then came yet another, to remind him how much of a freak he was. Like getting bad hannukah gifts from your grandparents, one crappier than the next. What else would be next? He could fly? He could disappear? He just wanted to be normal. Was that too much to freaking ask?

The radio station clicked into a classic rock station once they crossed the next county line. It was playing Styx, Renegade. "See, I _knew _I liked this car," Dean said, lightening the mood, and singing along. "It even knows what music I like. Good choice," he added to the car, patting the steering wheel affectionately.

Sam stared at the empty stretch of road line in front of them. _Well, they say time flies when you have fun_, Sam thought, trying to be positive. Yep, this might take a while.

* * *

Rose watched as the car drove away, smiling. She allowed herself a moment of brief wondering how they might have tasted. She had listened as Dean's heart had flustered when she touched him. _Just a taste..._ she thought, watching the black car disappear. She snapped herself out of it. Jasper would_ **not **_be right. She had some self control, contrary to his beliefs. 

She pulled out a bronze, old fashioned key and the note attached to it. 1636 Duquette Avenue. Vancouver. Jasper had said the omnipresent He would be letting her stay with a prestigious family of vampires (yes, letting her stay, like it was a privilege or something), up at a mansion in Canada. That was it, not even a name. Just that they'd be expecting her. She was packed and ready to get the show on the road.

Rose pulled her hair up into a messy bun as the wind picked up. Just one thing stopped her from leaving. She had to give Cicero the letter of resignation.

* * *

An hour and a half of driving with various tunes of Queen, Boston, Foriegner, Kansas, and Ted Nugent had driven Sam to the brink of insanity. Well... he _had_ sung along with More Than A Feeling and Stranglehold, but that was besides the point. 

_Hey, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em._

The first gas station they saw, Dean pulled over. It was nice to see a populated and functioning town, albiet small. Sam went inside as Dean pumped the gas. The elderly lady behind the counter was watching _Oprah_ on the "security" tv and the teenager refilling the coffee pot was humming to the latest My Chemical Romance hit. Sam was glad modern life hadn't stopped progressing since they'd left mainstream society.

Sam got a couple bags of chips and two cokes and went to pay. The nice old lady rang up his order. "Nice car," She commented.

"Yeah," Sam agreed.

"Nothing like the Impala I had wrecked," The lady said, "but a nic car nonetheless." Her voice suddenly an octave lower. It took Sam a couple seconds to realize what she had said. It clicked as her eyes flashed a nasty shade of red-orange that always made Sam's stomach flip like Travis Wall on So You Think You Can Dance.

At a gas station? Really? Where _were _they safe? Sam slowly backed out of the store as the lady laughed. He ran toward Dean, who was giving Sam an inquisitive look. Then Dean looked in through the glass window at the old lady, who waved and winked at him. He swore as he snapped the gas pump back into place and slammed into the driver's seat. Sam pulled into the passenger seat and Dean jammed the key and started the car. They sped off, not returning to under 100 mph until they passed the state line.

"I hate running away like that." Dean said, his voice raw with anger.

"I know." Sam said. "But I guess that just proves why we're doing this. Getting those bullets to kill this thing."

"Amen to that." Dean said

* * *

"Rose!" Cicero said, looking up from the cucumber he was slicing for the house salad. "Hey, honey, whats up?" His accent was thick and Italian. He'd come to the hicktown eigth years prior, looking for solitude in a small town. He'd had problems back in Italy and wanted to hide. So he'd taken a job as a chef, and had worked at Miller's ever since. He was Rose's father figure. 

"Are you feeling okay?" He asked, putting down the sharp knife, "There's no color in your cheeks." If only he knew. She held out the letter and he took it. She watched as he read it, her throat dry and scratchy. She expected him to be sad, but instead, he laughed. He put the letter down and resumed his cucumber chopping. "If I counted the number of times I wanted to quit..."

"Cicero, I'm leaving the country." Somehow, leaving the country sounded much more impressive than taking a va-kay up to Canada. Cicero looked at her, realizing she was serious. He was about to say something, but instead of words, a scream escaped his mouth.

He had crossed chef rule numero uno. He looked away from the veggie he was cutting with an extremely long, dangerous knife. His first two fingers hd been cut into.

Something overcame Rose. Like a wave of decisions all at once. Her vision fogged up and she felt nauseous. Something salty on her tongue. She could hear a heartbeat. Her eyes narrowed on one thing, the blood dripping from Cicero's fingers. Fangs. She couldn't look away. She wanted to so badly, but she had no control over herself. The one part of her brain that was still hers urged her to stop. But it wasn't working. She found herself lunging at the man she'd known for so long. And didn't his blood taste good...

* * *

Sam woke up the next morning in the passenger seat of the Pontiac. Had Dean driven the entire night? _Are you crazy? _Sam thought, seeing all the Canadian license plates around him. 

"Must be," Dean answered, hearing Sam's voice once again.

Sam sat up, running his hands through his hair and yawning. They'd crossed the country line.

**Author's Note: Okok, i really wanna hear what y'all think should happen. I mean, I've got some really good ideas, but i wanna hear what you guys want to see happen too. I'll toss in anything as long as it doesn't conflict with the plot. And I'm really sorry about the whole Cicero thing, it had to happen. And for all of you that get the "Duquette" Avenue part, kudos to you. Very up to date on your Jeffrey Dean Morgan pop culture. :)**


	9. Eh?

Canada. What could Sam say about Canada? Well, for one thing, too many people said 'eh'.

It was, "got some spare change, eh?"

"Nice day out, eh?"

"Out of towner, eh?"

"Eh? Eh? Eh?"

And you couldn't ask anything without getting a question back at you. "Can I get a phone book?" Sam asked.

"Looking for someone special, eh?" The man asked right back. See, there were no answers. Just more questions. More and more freaking questions. This had to be the fifth person Sam had asked for a phone book. Had one person forked one over? No.

"Or maybe a phone booth?" he clarified.

"Trying to call someone?"

_No, I'm just horribly fascinated by all the pretty names._

"Someone _special," _the man added._ "_Pretty boy like you." Sam rolled his eyes and gave up. He went back to Dean, who was poring over their dad's journal. The coordinates for Vancouver were right there. And the name, written in clear print right next to it, read Kenzie, Adrian. They still weren't sure if these people were friends or not. Or even whether the opposite page- on vampires- had anything to do with this.

"What now?" Sam asked, wondering out loud. "Find out more about this Kenzie guy?"

Dean nodded. "Talk to the locals." Sam snorted, tossing a look back at the guy he'd asked about the phone booth.

"Good luck."

The manager of the store they had parked in front of came out. "Are you interested in buying anything my store has to offer?" he asked.

_Oh, god. _Dean shook his head no. They weren't planning on buying any tourist t-shirts that said 'My mommy went to Vancouver and all I got was this lousy shirt'.

"Then please get off my property." He was smiling, but you could tell he was serious. And they _had _been parked out there for quite some time.

"Sure." Sam said. He didn't want Canadian police asking them why they were loitering. Dean didn't mesh well with police.

They drove off to find a motel. "How can a city not have phone booths?" Sam asked, as they drove down the street. They stopped at the first hotel they saw, a Vancouver Stay Inn. Small, and cheap. Or so the sign said. Hey, they didn't need to stay at a Hilton. The second Dean steeped through the door he did a quick 180 and tried to scram out of there. Sam grabbed the collar of his jacket and yanked him back in.

It was a bed and breakfast. And Sam would have walked out too, except the lady at the front desk had already seen them. They were already trapped, her friendly smile not allowing room for escape. "Welcome to the Vancouver Inn, here to make your stay beautiful." She said, in an accent _clearly_ not from Canada, considering it had a Josh Holloway worthy southern drawl to it. But the Winchesters didn't even ask. "Let me show you what packages for stays you can look at." She pulled out brochures, each with pictures of the flowered wallpapers B and B.

They had to hand it to the owner, it _was _a cheap stay, and it made Dean wonder what hidden small print there was. Dean called the other hotels and motels in the area, but every one was either booked or way too expensive. Some sci-fi convention was in town and everything was packed. So turning back to the pretty concierge, Dean sighed and said, "I guess were staying here." They walked up the stairway, with its elaborate handrails with Jenny (the concierge, who originally was from Texas) showing them the way.

"Your room is back here." She said, with an elaborate Vanna White hand sweep. "We have many activities and sights to see. I'm sure you know many movies and TV shows are filmed here in Vancouver. Tomorrow begins a tour of the studios around here. Or... if you're looking for something more... private," She paused to clear her throat. "The popular Academy Award Winning movie Brokeback Mountain was filmed not far from here. Shuttles to that area of our city leave at 8 A.M. and you can spend your day... enjoying the... scenery." She said in a tone that was suggesting something about them.

Dean rolled his eyes and Sam started to stutter. "We're not... no, you see... we're... we're... we're brothers."

"Of course, of course. I understand." She winked at them. Dean snorted, and Sam elbowed him in the ribs. Dean bit his lip against the laughter. Sam threw him a glare that cleary told him that if he ever tried to play along he would rip Dean's liver out through his nose. "The resemblance is striking," Jenny said.

Dean put his arm around Sam's shoulders, smiling, and the youngest Winchester shruggged it off. "We'd like to think so." He reached for the door handle. "Now if you don't mind, we'd like to get more acquianted with the room."

"We're not--" Sm said, his face red.

"Don't be such a spoil-sport, Sammy," Dean said, tugging Sam into the room, but not before winking at Jenny, who went back down the stairs, giggling to herself.

"So now we're the queers," Sam said, pulling open the door. Oh well, it wasn't the first time. Back in Oklahoma, trying to find out what was behind mysterious swarms of bugs (long story), they'd been associated with the not-so-straight community. "Oh, hell no." The room was pink. And frilly. And smelled like potpourri.

And it only had one bed.

* * *

Rose was on the floor of the bar, passed out. The first thing she saw when she surfaced was Jasper's face, peering down at her. The second thing she saw, when she rolled over, was Cicero's face, eyes wide with shock. "Ohmygod," She breathed all at once, beginning to hyperventilate. 

"Rose?" Jasper asked, in a soothing voice. He helped her to her feet. "Don't worry about him. I have it all taken care of."

"No. No.No." She shivered and fell into Jasper's grasp as he picked her up. "No. No." It was the only thing she could say. Cicero was on the floor, his face green and his body unmoving. There was no rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. His eyes were popped open, and his mouth was slack. "Cicero." Rose breathed, her voice soft. "Im so sorry. Sorry. Sorry." She couldn't take her eyes off. "What'd I do?"

"Rose," Jasper said, turning her face away for her. He heard people come through the door. "This way," he motioned for them. Turning his attention back to Rose, whose own eyes were open in shock, he said, "It's alright. It was an accident." She was limp, and he brought her back out to her little red Camry. "Rose, I am going to drive you to Vancouver now. I need you to get some rest." He buckled her in her seat, and got into the driver's side. "Rose, I need you to take deep breaths." It was almost if he _knew _this might happen. As if he _expected_ it. He _had _expected it.

* * *

After trading in the one-bed room for another, with two beds, Dean and Sam put their bags on their own seperate beds. It had taken a half hour to convince the sweet, yet persistent, Jenny that they were NOT gay, especially with Dean's little bit of acting earlier, and that they needed another room. 

"Sexuality is nothing to be ashamed of," she said over and over. Only when Sam asked for his money back had Jenny agreed to switch the rooms.

"Look here," Sam said, reaching into the drawer of the bedside table. He pulled out a phone book. Dean came over and they flipped through to find the K's. Then finding Adrian's name, Sam traced his finger over to the number, and address. 1636 Duquette Avenue.

**Author's Note: Short chapter, I know, but it was a transition chapter. It had to happen, and i mean, I might as well add a BIT of humor to it, along with the whole Cicero thing. Hang on with me, cuz next chapter's gonna be a lot of breaking in and sleuthing... and running into a certain waitress on the streets of Vancouver. And FYI: The Name Adrian Kenzie means Dark Light, just a tidbit about how i got the name. Write and tell me what you thought, cuz you know I love feedback! -S**


	10. Familiar Face

Chapter 10: familiar face

To call 1636 Duquette Ave a house would be an understatement. To call it a mansion still would have been an understatement. To call it a hotel would be closer to the truth.

Duquette Avenue was a small dirt path. Rose suspected the last thing on wheels to come down the road had been a horse and buggy. Jasper maneuvered the camry easily down the path, seemingly knowing exactly where each pothole was and expertly missing it. Rose sat, balled up in her seat still, wondering where the house was exactly. She could see a dead end.

The car stopped and Rose turned her head to look out the window. She gasped. It was a huge iron gate, and beyond that a house on a huge peice of property. The gate was intricate, woven leaves and a giant K. Jasper got out of the car and pushed 4 buttons on the gate key. It opened silently, which was a surprise. Rose expected a huge squeak as the ages old gate swung open.

The house/mansion/hotel was perfect. It was Rose's dream house. Literally, weeks ago she'd dreamed of walking up to this. 4 stories high, and covered in ivy all the way up to the faded green shingles. The French doors at the front opened, although no one was there, and the curtains blew in the breeze.

There was a huge 2 story glass window catching the light perfectly, letting Rose see a gleaming kitchen. The field to the left of the house was inviting. Rose remembered running through the field in her dream. She wasn't running from anything, just running. Like she was free. But she felt so barred sitting in that car. She could never imagine feeling free again. She had just killed a man.

Jasper opened her door for her and she stepped out for the first time. Her feet were wobbly and she lost her balance more than once. Jasper led her up to the door, and told her he'd have to leave. "This is Adrian Kenzie's house. He's like you and me, okay?" She nodded. "Alright, there should be a letter on the mantle for you. And dont thinkits out of the ordinary if you dont see Mr. Kenzie every day. He doesn't like to stay inside or in one place." She nodded again.

"Do you remember how to get back into the town?" Jasper asked, putting his hand up to her face.

"Yeha" She choked out. Her voice was weak, and her throat was dry.

'Alright. I'll see you then." Jasper hesitated before leaving. He walked straight past the gates and down the road, and started to run faster than any normal human being.

Rose closed the french doors and decided to look for the mantle.

* * *

Dean stared at the pink textured ceiling in disgust, as Sam pulled up a website on the laptop. 

"There's nothing on Adrian Kenzie." Sam said, after running a search. "Good or bad."

"I dont think he was a friend of dad's," Dean said, sitting up.

"What gives you that idea?" Sam asked, "Are you the psychic one now?"

Dean glared at him. "Funny, Sam. No."

"Look at this," Sam said, and Sam turned the screen toward Dean. "Austin Kenzie wins hunting challenge, Vancouver, 1992." Dean scanned the article, and pointed at part of the article, near the end. "Austin takes a lead from his father, Adrian, who passed away in 1990, and won the hunting event. Adrian Kenzie had won in 1988 and in 1989 was mauled by the bear he was supposed to be tracking."

"Why would dad write down a dead guy's name?" Dean asked, wondering out loud.

"Maybe he's not really dead," Sam said, turning the page in their dad's journal to the page on vampires.

Dean exchanged glances with Sam and kept reading, "Austin shares his monetary prize with his mother, who is currently in Intensive Care for reasons unknown. Austin plans on attending an American college next year." Dean looked up at Sam.

"Find out what happened to Austin." Sam typed a few more words and his eyebrows raised. The screen was on an Orange County, California Coroners Report.

Austin Joshua Kenzie, cause of death: Animal Attack. Below, written in red were the words, "Corpse Stolen"

"Now who would steal a corpse?" Dean said. "Some one who wasn't dead to begin with. Vampires. I mean, an animal attack in Orange County. Not many mountain lions down there."

"So you think these guys are vampires..." Sam said, starting to believe it himself. "The mother too?" Dean nodded.

"The whole family."

"At 1636 Duquette Avenue?"

"You bet," Dean said, starting to put on his shoes.

"Where are you going? You're not gonna go check out the place are you?" Sam asked, standing and closing the laptop.

"No, I'm gonna go down for that Brokeback Scenery Tour. You coming?" Dean said, smirking. "And no, I'm gonna find a bar and ask some locals about the Kenzie family."

_Always a bar. _Sam thought.

* * *

_How easy,_ Rose thought. _Does Jasper think im that much of an idiot that I can't do this?_ She found the mantle. And the unsigned paper with her directions. Something about bullets in the basement and someone was coming for them. _I'm making sure no one steals bullets. _Rose was almost disappointed. She wanted action. This might take months. 

She went out to her car and drove into town looking in every window for that Help Wanted sign. She might as well get some monetary benefit from all this.

* * *

It had taken Dean less than a minute to find a bar. "All in the genes, Sammy," Dean said. Sam was hesitant to point out they _had_ the same genes. Dean had rolled his eyes. "I knew it ran in the family. Only you get all the crappy powers, where as I actually get something useful."

Dean wasted no time chatting up locals at the bar right then. None of them were answering _him_ in questions. Sam was throwing darts listening in on the conversation.

"Yeah, old man Kenzie. Lives on that house way on the edge- a town," one man had said. "Never comes out except coupla times a year."

"Poor old man, lives all alone."

"Who?"

"Kenzie... that sounds familiar."

Sam gazed out the window, past the now hiring sign in the window and watched a little red car drove by, back up, and park in a parking spot square in the front of the bar. He squinted as a woman got out of the car. "Oh, hell no..." He said to himself as she pulled open the door.

Rose spotted him right away. "Fancy seeing you boys here."

_Well, son of a..._


	11. Bar Fight

Rose in the flesh. The very tanned flesh. Dean stopped talking to the local at the bar. Sam was in mid-toss of a dart, and he turned as he saw her. The dart went whizzing past her head, and into the wall behind her. It was a narrow miss. "Well, hi to you too," Rose said, making her way to Sam.

"Well, merry Christmas to me," Sam said sarcastically under his breath.

Rose ruffled her fingers through his hair teasingly. Sam flinched away uncomfortably as Rose turned briefly to him. "Man," she said, shaking her head, "get a haircut, would you?" She smiled. "Or at least wash it, or something. The tough guy look works better on your brother."

Sam threw a quick glare her way as she headed toward the older Winchester brother. Dean sized her up for a second: Daisy Duke cutoffs and a scoop-neck black tank. Sam flattened his mop of brown hair as if in afterthought and watched as Rose pulled up a barstool next to Dean.

"So, I see this is where the road decided to take you, huh?" Rose said to Dean as she waved down the bartender. "Job application?" she asked, and he bent down beneath the counter and pulled one out for her, with a pen. She began scribbling down information.

Sam gave Dean a 'lets get out of here' look, jerking his head once toward the door. Dean shook his head behind Rose's back insistently. Sam mouthed 'come _on_,' and Dean shook his head again. 'Fine, but you take it somewhere else. I am sleeping in my hotel bed tonight,' Sam half-mouthed, half-whispered, and Dean responded with a rather rude hand gesture.

"So how's your grandma?" Dean asked, with humor tinting his question.

"She's doing alot better now that I'm here. Thanks for asking," Rose said without looking up from her paperwork. "I can't believe I have to apply on paper for a place like this. I mean, give me an apron and a pad of paper and I'm in business." She signed the bottom of the paper and looked up.

"Hey man, back off!" A voice called from the back of the bar, and all eyes went to the two guys who were now standing up. The bigger one of the two (they were both big, but this guy seemed like he had a couple of pounds on the other), started to walk around the table. The smaller one backed up. Sam saw him slip a steak knife up his sleeve, but didn't think anyone else had seen.

* * *

Rose signed the papers and heard static in her head started to form words. "You say one more thing about her, I'll make sure you never say anything else in your life again." 

"Hey man, back off!" A voice rang out, and this time, not only Rose could hear it. Sam and Dean looked to the back, along with every other person in the cramped bar. _I need to get out_, Rose thought, at the moment realising threre might be bloodshed. Caeser's face flashed in front of her mind and she tried to make her way out of the bar. People were pouring in from the streets now.

* * *

Dean got to the back of the bar, and got a front row spot to watch as the fight. Sam wasn't fast enough, but was right next to Rose, who was looking for a way out of the bar. She was starting to shake, "Hey, Rose, You okay?" He put his hand on her shoulder and she turned around. He snatched his hand back. Her pupils were dialated and she was breathing heavy. 

The men in the back had gotten closer, and finally the smaller guy tipped the table over and lunged for the other. The knife hit him in the arm and blood was pouring out a mile a minute. The bar owner and another guy, the chef to the looks of it, came pushing their way through the crowd.

"I need... to get...out." Rose choked through to Sam. Her eyes were rolling back into her head. Sam took a step backwards, but ran into someone. Rose fought her way through the crowd.

* * *

The taste of the blood was on her tongue. She could smell it in the air. Every sane part of Rose fought with her supernatural side. One part of her was ready to attack the men in the back, speeding past everyone in the room with unnatural strength. The other part was telling her to run away, and out the door. 

The fangs were making their way through her gums now, and her eyes were dilated already. She clutched her fists and and pushed through people on her way to the door, but it wasn't working. Her eyes flashed red, before pooling into black and her fangs came down, touching her bottom lip.

"Hey, Rose," Sam said, trying to make sure she was okay. She flashed back a look at him, and he stepped back, reaching for something in his back pocket. A gun, no doubt. Rose snapped her face back to normal as she feared she might die.

* * *

Sam was seeing things. He put the gun back into the back of his jeans, and pulled her up. "I've gotta go," Rose said. "My grandma might need something. You know?" Her voice was faint and Sam had to struggle to hear her. The fight was breaking up. 

"Okay," Sam said, and Rose went out the door. He was still confused as ever.

* * *

The chef pulled the younger guy off the other and pushed him against the wall. The bigger guy was on the floor, dripping blood everywhere from his arm and the last puncture in his leg. Dean turned as soon as he knew they had it under control. 

The sirens blared and the police evacuated the building so the paramedics could get through. "Wow, bar fight. I wonder how drunk they were this time. Remember last time these two guys went at it, Joe?" one paramedic said to the other.

Dean found Sam outside. "Okay, then," Sam said, and Dean got into his car.

"How about seeing Rose?" Dean said. Sam remembered the face. Red eyes and fangs. He wanted to believe he wasn't seeing anything, but _come on_. Not everyone they met had to be a vampire or a demon. "She's a nice one, huh?"

"Yeah." Sam said, but his voice was aloof. He wasn't focused on the conversation.

"Not the chatty one today, then." Dean said. "Here, mull this over Yoda, I was thinking about checking out that Duquette place tonight."

"Sneak in?" Sam asked

"No, I was thinking we get some skirts, sashes, and cookies and pretend we're girlscouts," Dean said, rolling his eyes. "Yes, break in. I figure we've got all day to find out what we can and as soon as its dark enough out, we go in."

"We don't even know alot about this thing. I mean, does Adrian Kenzie and his entire family live there? Are they hiding the bullets? I mean, whats going on here?"

"So many questions, young grasshopper," Dean said with a smirk. "It's hunting season. I figure since they're vampires that somehow stray away from human blood, they might be out finding some kind of food. There's a forest right next to the house."

"How do you know that?"

"Nice guy at the bar told me they used to hold a competition there every year, and Adrian always used to win. People thought it was unfair because he lived right there." Dean answered. "I do my research Sammy."

"Yeah, from a half-drunk guy in a bar. Very nice research, professor," Sam shot back as they pulled up to their room. "I'm wondering why people don't connect this guy with the one that died. I mean, when a guy is mauled to death, and another guy moves in to his old house with the same name. It makes no sense."

"According to my sources," Dean spat out, "this Kenzie is a distant relative."

"With the same name?"

"It's a busy town, people have more to worry about than a dead guy and his relative who never comes out into the public." He had a good point.

"So we go in, look around, potluck on where they're hiding the bullets, and get out of there? Meanwhile, hoping we dont come across one of them." They stepped out of the car and opened the trunk.

"Well, we dont need the bullets to kill the vampires, now, do we," Dean pulled out two guns, loaded with silver bullets. "Tonight."

**Authors Note: FEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEDBACK! lol, please! I wanna know what u think!!!! Cmon the stories just starting! **


	12. Do The Dead Leave Voicemail?

Dean snapped the trunk closed. Sam was still uneasy with Dean's whole plan. They walked into the bed and breakfast and were greeted with a warm smile from a different concierge. "Room number?" she said.

Dean showed her the room key. She smiled, "You have a voice message." Dean looked at Sam. "You can check it from your room, okay?"

Sam nodded and they went up to the room. Like the lady up front had said, there was a blinking red message on the phone line. Sam picked it up, as Dean pulled out his luggage from under the bed. He sorted through pages of information on protection from demons.

Sam listened as the automatic teller told him they had one message. "Hey boys." Sam looked up at Dean.

"Listen to this." Sam said, and put the message on hands free. "I know you guys are here, I knew you were smart enough. Listen to me now."

"Dad?" Dean said, recognizing the voice.

"I think you guys know where I am. I'm at the Kenzie house. Find the basement and you'll find me. Okay? But I don't want you boys to get me until you have the bullets. I think theyre somewhere on the sixth floor."

"Sixth floor. Is it a hotel or something?" Dean said.

"Shhhh." Sam said, as the message played on.

"Please dont try to find me until you have those bullets," their dad's voice urged. And then the message was over. They sat for a few seconds in silence.

"Was it him?" Sam asked, his voice monotone. He was still holding the phone to his ear, as if hoping there might be more any second.

"I'm pretty sure it was," Dean responded through his own shock.

"'Pretty sure' is not gonna cut it when we realize it was some demon freak impersonating our _dead_ father." Sam said, replaying the message, only this time hooking it up to the laptop using a dozen different wires.

"Hey, computer geek, what're you doing?" Dean asked, as Sam plugged in a yellow wire, a determined look on his face.

"I'm gonna run his voice through the computer and try to match it to another message that was definitely him."

"Why were you gonna be a lawyer," Dean asked, "when you can do things like this with a computer?" Sam chose to ignore the comment, biting his lip, his forehead creased. For some reason, he didn't seem to want to believe anything that was right in front of his eyes.

Dean looked around the computer at the wire pouring out from each direction. He raised his hand in front of Sam's face as if he was a schoolkid with the answer to a math problem. "Mr. Bill Gates?" he asked tentatively in the perfect mockery of a thirteen year old's voice. "How are you gonna compare dad's voice? We don't have any other voice clips to compare it to."

Sam looked up at Dean, giving him an 'shut up, I've got it covered' look. Pulling out his own phone, Sam hooked it up to the laptop and downloaded an audio file. "Hey Sammy, I know were all pretty pissed at each other right now, we all said some stuff we shouldn't have last night." The voice was tight and almost forced, but still John's. "Just call me back."

"Where's that from?" Dean asked.

"The night after I left for Stanford." Sam said, eyes still on the computer screen.

"You saved that? For how many years?" Dean asked. Sam ignored that. "Why didn't you ever call him back?" Sam pretended not to hear. Instead of answering Dean, he ran the two audio waves against each other, finally finding a few words in common. After a few minutes of complicated-looking cutting and typing into a command prompt, he had the two clips next to each other, the two words running simultaneously. The soundwaves were identical.

"Impossible," Sam said.

"Same person?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed numbly, dropping his head for a second and taking a deep breath. When he raised it, he shook his head, looking unsettled. "Dad is..." he took another deep breath shakily "...dead, though."

"You should know by now that death might not be the end, knowing what we do every day," Dean said, forcing down his own reactions, not allowing himself to hope as Sam unplugged all the wires and put them back into his bag. "So it looks like were going to the Kenzie house."

* * *

Rose paced the basement. She had gotten another note on the mantle from that 'Him' guy. There was a guy in the basement who knew who was coming for the bullets. Rose had gone down to the bottom-most floor and found him tied to a heating pipe that was five feet around.

She removed the gag. "Nice day, isn't it?" The man didn't respond, glaring defiantly at her. "So news around town says _you_ know who's coming to take the merchandise upstairs."

"Oh really, heard it down the demon grapevine?" a gruff voice answered back.

"Funny," Rose said, although her voice was anything but humorous. "Who's coming to take the bullets?"

"Why do you care?" the man asked her, though he most likely knew the answer. He was stalling for time, messing with her.

"I ask the questions around here," Rose said, her voice full of authority.

"Says who?"

"I'm not the one tied up to a heating pipe," she answered. "So who's coming for the bullets?"

"No one of interest," the man said nonchalantly. "Why do you care? We can kill you guys without those bullets, why do you need to protect them?"

_He has a good point,_ Rose thought. She knelt down on the floor to be eye level with him. "So you're not gonna answer my question?"

"Now you're catching on." The man smiled, mocking her. Rose took a lighter from her pocket, and lit it. She brought the flame to the man's face.

"Who. Is coming. To take. The bullets," she said, bringing the flame closer to his cheek.

With one quick motion, the man blew out the flame of the lighter. "It'll take a lot more than torture to get it out of me, Miss Tennessee."

* * *

"Sammy, I want this house." Dean said, looking out onto the Kenzie property. They were both in dark wash jeans and black t-shirts, blending into the dark surrounding them. The car was parked at the end of the long stretch of road. Dean didn't want to have to turn the car around too fast.

Dean stuck his foot into one of the designs on the iron gate and pulled himself up and over, Sam on his heels. "Wow, spacious yard," Dean said, looking over at the field. "Probably about 23 bedrooms and bathrooms. Could hold one hell of a party in there." Dean laughed to himself.

"Shhhhhh." Sam said, as they walked up to the front door. Their eyes passed straight over the little red Camry to the right side of the house. The french doors were closed and Dean took out a deformed key.

"Hey, Dean?" Sam said, reaching over for the handle. It swung open right away.

"What kind of people dont lock their front doors?" Dean asked, quietly.

"The kind with fangs," Sam retorted under his breath, yet just loud enough for Dean to hear. They stepped inside the foyer. "OK, wheres the basement at?" Dean asked.

"We're not looking for the basement." Sam said, knowing exactly what Dean was going to do. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Yes, we are."

"I don't know about you, but I'm going up to the sixth floor." Sam looked up the staircase that seemed to last forever.

"Fine." Dean retorted angrily, as Sam started to climb the steps. "But if if comes down to the bullets or dad, _I'm_ choosing dad."


	13. Just Like You

"Too many steps," Dean complained.

"Shut up, Dean," Sam said. "You're a really bad burglar, you know that? You'd think you would be more experienced than this." Dean hadn't shut up since they started to climb.

"Hey, I would have been quiet if we had gone to the basement."

"Just shut up." Sam said, making it up to the top of the steps. It was a small attic, but it was filled with a maze of boxes.

Dean whistled. "Wow. Maybe it'd be easier to sort through all this junk if we had another person to help us look." Sam rolled his eyes.

* * *

Rose heard a clunk of a foot, and voices. She stood up, after sitting with the guy in the basement for over an hour. The man looked up as well. "Is that them?" The man looked her straight in the eye. "I told you, I'm not answering any questions tonight."

Rose ran up the stairs and then up 6 more flights. "...if we had another person to help us look." Who was in her attic? Well, not _her _attic, but still. She peered around a couple boxes and watched as the figures went deeper into the room. She followed the boxes back and trid to get farther ahead than they were so she could see their faces. The attic was just too dark.

* * *

"Hey, come look ove-"

"Shhhhhh..." Sam said, having a sudden paranoid feeling like he was being watched.

"Do you think-"

"Shut up!" Sam hissed as he looked to his left and could have sworn he saw something move into the shadows. Yep, just paranoid. But he couldnt help looking over his shoulder one more time.

* * *

Rose slowly backed up, careful not to make a noise. She held her breath and waited until they resumed their search. She looked down, and through the floorboards. It was an old house, and alot of the floorboards werent exactly sealed all the way. Perfectly stable, but Rose could still see down to the floor below. The two guys were moving back now. Rose crept around more of the boxes and old furnature. "What about-" One of them started to say. The other waved his hand as if to make him stop talking. He ws coming closer to the box in which Rose was hiding behind.

Rose slowly exhaled as she took a step back. The heel of her stilletto boots caught in the hole of a floorboard and Rose stomped her other foot down to steady herself and wedge out the heel. However, the sound of a high heel resolutly hitting the floor echoed throughout the other wise quiet room. She swore under her breath as the heel broke off and one of the guys said, "Run."

* * *

Sam was first out the door and down the staircase, with Dean so close on his heels, he could feel the breath on his neck. "Go, go, go," Dean kept saying.

"I'm going, what does it look like?" Sam retorted as they reached the second floor landing.

"Like you're not moving! Hustle!" Dean persisted, throwing a look over his shoulder at the figure still only on the third floor landing. They finally reached the bottom of the staircase and went to the left, instead of the right, the way they had come before. Stumbling into a kitchen, Dean found another door, leading into another foyer. "What is this? House of Mazes?" He said in frustration, opening another door. This one, thankfully, lead outside.

They were at the field now, the huge one that had been off to the left of the house as they came in. It was new moon, and no light was anywhere remotly near them, so Sam and Dean ran blindly toward the forest edge that was quickly approaching. Sam dodged a tree and slid into the woods. Dean was completely blinded and not sure where exactly Sam was. "Sammy! Just keep going straight." They would split up. Dean hung a right, but regretted it. He ran smack into a tree. He stumbled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He saw the figure running past him, toward Sam. Dean took off again, this time for whoever was chasing Sam.

* * *

"Hello there, John," a high pitched, yet distinctively male voice said. John looked up into cold yellow eyes. Shivers ran down John's spine, but he tried to conceal it. John struggled against the ropes around his wrists. He tried to remember how he'd manipulated the ropes so he could call into the town. It had been one heck of a twist, that was for sure. His phone lay right next to him still, but the battery was dead now.

"You'll be out of those ropes tonight, John, don't worry." The eyes flared up like fire. "Maybe not consciously, though." It laughed and then John felt something metal hit his head. The last thing he remembered was the demon saying "Your sons decided to pay visit." and he was lifted off the ground. After that, the world dissolved into black.

* * *

Rose cursed Jimmy Choo as she ran, still with one heel broken. She slipped it off, dodging trees. It was helpful that she could see in pitch black now. She took off her other shoe and held it in her hand. She was advancing on the guy in front of her. She took the shoe in her hand and pegged him straight in the back of the head with the heel, at the base of the neck. He was out. Didn't take much when you knew which buttons to press. Rose stopped running, out of breath and looking down at the figure on the ground. He looked up at her. Sam?

She heard something behind her, and turned around just in time to see Dean swinging a rather large branch at her head.

* * *

"So do you want to explain this to us?" Dean asked. Rose's eyes flickered open and she found herself sitting on a chair in the kitchen. She opened her eyes all the way and saw Sam and Dean staring back at her.

"Explain what?" She asked, playing dumb while she tried to cook up a cover story. She needed an alibi. She knew somehow by now the man in the basement would be gone, and so would the bullets upstairs. She'd kind of failed. But it wasn't over yet.

"Don't play blonde, blondie." Dean spat at her. "What are you doing in this house? What are you?"

"I'm a..." Rose's mind was wheeling with possibilities. "I know who you are."

"But who are you?" Dean was right up close to her face.

"I'm exactly what you are, a vampire hunter." She smiled to herself at this idea. Pretend she was on their side. That might buy her some time; a lot of time.

"Excuse me, Missy?" Dean answered. "You're a _what_?"

"I'm just like you guys," she said. Sam turned to Dean. His mind was wheeling. Sam had been sure she was a vampire.

_The bar, that face in the bar,_ Sam thought, remembering earlier that day when she had looked back at him, her eyes flared red. He hadn't been seeing things. It made too much sense. But what she was saying now...

"You don't believe me," she stated.

"Not really," Sam answered simply.

"What am I, then?" She asked, her voice returning to its airy tone.

"You're a vampire," Sam said, sure of it.

Rose laughed. "Look." She smiled broadly, showing her upper gums, revealing no fangs. She had eaten before that chase, so her fangs had promptly retracted. "No bite marks on my neck." She tilted her neck so they could see. "I'm constantly around people. How come I'm not eating them all?" She laughed again. Sam wasn't amused, and he wasn't buying it.

"Then why are you staying in this house?"

"For Adrian Kenzie, of course. Something tells me he hasn't exactly been sticking to a vegan diet, if you know what I mean." Sam's eyebrow raised. "I've been staked out here for two weeks now. Doesn't even look like he lives here anymore. It's been empty." Dean was more convinced than Sam was.

"Are you sure?" Dean asked, squarely looking her in the eyes.

"Duh, I'm alive and so is he," she said, blowing hair out of her face. "Can you untie this for me?" She motioned toward the ropes on her wrists and ankles. "Right," Sam and Dean said at the same time, only Sam was being sarcastic. "Dean, what are you doing?" Sam asked as Dean went for her left wrist.

"I believe her," he said. Rose smirked to herself. She knew Dean would be the easier one to sway. Even before she'd gotten these wild powers, she probably could have swayed him. This was her second time using mind control, and she wasnt quite sure how to use it. And it wasn't quite mind control. It was more like she could convince anyone of anything. Like the lady at the restaurant she had tricked into thinking she'd already paid her bill. And now Dean. However, the grip on Dean's mind was loose. And she couldn't even grab hold of Sam's brain. She'd work on that. _This is so cool_, she thought, as Dean took out a pocketknife to cut the bindings.

"Sam, we'll look in the basement first and then we'll leave her alone, okay?" Dean said. Sam's jaw slacked.

"Dean, half an hour ago, you were ready to shoot her!"

"Half an hour ago," Dean said. Turning to Rose, he asked, "Where's the basement?"

**kk, for all of you who thought Rose might be good in the end... WRONG!!!!!!!! it goes downhill from here. feedback. always. -S**


	14. Premonitions

There was nothing in the basement. There was nothing in the attic. There was nothing in the floors in between. Sam was frustrated.

He pulled Dean aside. "You're not seeing through this?"

"No," Dean said.

"I'm a _psychic_," Sam said, exasperated. "Doesn't that count for anything these days? You'd think 'your brother who is also a psychic' would trump 'hot girl that supposedly hunts vampires.'"

"Hey, believe it or not, hot girl always trumps brother. But you find any _evidence_ she's a vampire, and I'll believe _you_." He joined Rose again.

They looked more, but in the end, Sam and Dean drove back to their bed and breakfast empty-handed. They walked in, flashed the room key, and started to climb the steps to their rooms. They were thoroughly sick of steps. "Hey! Heidi Ho! Boys??!!" An old lady was at the bottom of the steps. "We're having game night. Would you like to come join us?"

_At 4 A.M.??_ Dean thought Dean replied a sober and tired "No, thank you".

"They're tired," the old lady told her friends. "Theyre going off to bed."A couple laughed. Great, more gay jokes. They returned their trek up the stairs. Sam simply collapsed face-first on the bed the second he walked through the door.

* * *

Jasper walked into the mansion, finding Rose making hot chocolate in the kitchen. He held up a cigar box. 

"Nice job keeping these safe," he said, putting the box on the table. Rose opened the box and counted all 12 bullets still safe inside. The Winchesters had been inches from them. "He was here tonight." Rose pulled herself up to sit on the countertop.

"Ahhhh, _He,_" she said, in a mocking voice. "Why was _He _here?" She spat out the words.

"He was here because he knew the Winchesters were coming," Jasper said, pulling a chair from the table. "He's disappointed, but says he's got a new look on how this could go."

"Sharing is caring," Rose said quite sarcastically, waiting for Jasper to tell her the new instructions.

* * *

Rose went into town and found the bed and breakfast where Sam and Dean were checked into. Using her newfound mind control, she slipped past the concierge, and up the stairs. She unlocked the door to their room and invited herself in. Sam was awake and sitting upright on the edge of his bed. Dean was still asleep. 

"What the-" Sam slammed the top of the laptop down hard and stood up.

"Chill," Rose said. "He's sleeping." She tried hooking her mind around Sam's but once again found it impossible. "I know you guys," she said, coming closer to Sam.

"What?"

"I know your mom died in a fire. So did mine." She'd rehearsed these lines with Jasper. "And I know you're looking for whatever killed her. So am I." It was going perfectly as planned. "And I know you're psychic."

"Ok, we need to get you checked into a mental institution, Rose, because--" Sam tried to deny it.

"Sam, give up, dont even try. I've got powers too," Rose said.

"Like what?" Sam asked her, talking a bit too loud, making Dean wake up.

"Rose!" he said, looking straight up at her. "Why are you here?"

"I've come to help you guys."

* * *

_Rose is here to help us. _Sam thought. _And Dean is going for it._ Sam was confused. It was a Winchester party, she wasn't invited. She couldn't tag along. It would ruin it. Sam shook his head, and continued walking down the street. He'd had to get out of there. He was just walking now, he didn't know where. But streets had to take him somewhere, right? Provided, he remembered his way back. 

He got to a park, already full of kids, but the swings were still abandoned. He felt like a 3 year old as he went and sat on the swing and rocked back and forth, just thinking. He looked up to find a kid staring at him, from the top of the jungle gym. The kid waved and Sam smiled and waved back. The kids mom called him over, with a wry look at Sam. Oh, great now he was a gay pedophile. He hated Vancouver.

How had this happened again? Who had shot the last Colt bullet into oblivion? Dean. Who had insisted they go to the house on Duquette? Dean. Who made so much noise that Rose had to investigate? Dean. Who made it all happen? Dean.

And now he had the nerve to invite another person onto this road trip for revenge? Was that it? Sam couldn't believe it. Why had they stopped at that small town, and eaten at that diner? He hated fate, he really did. Sam kicked a patch of sand up in the air.

He felt like a teenager as he cursed god for everything that happened to him. Suddenly, he fell to his knees, off the swing. His mind was blurred and he tried to focus. Why did premonitions come at the worst possible time? His mind was black and then, he was in a house. He was sitting on a black couch. He looked toward the doorway and saw a flash of blonde hair. Rose! No... it was... Jess.

"Sam," she said, smiling. What kind of a premonition was this? "Blue River," she said walking forward.

"What?" Sam said, standing up.

"Blue River. The answer is in blue river," Jess said.

"What's Blue River?" Sam asked, but Jess was walking backwards, and fading into nothing.

"Jess! No! Wait! Whats Blue River?" Sam screamed at her, dropping to his knees. His eyes refocused. Where was he again? That park... It was dark out now. Had he conked out the entire day? How could that be? He pulled himself up, and nearly vomited. He had a headache, but what else was new? They always came after premonitions. Jess had been in it, he remembered. He looked over toward a group of three oak trees by the slide.

He screamed out loud. He'd seen Jess, a ghost of Jess, and then it was gone. Like something out of 'The Ring'. Whatever he saw, he didn't want to stick around to find out. He needed to get back to Dean.

* * *

"Has he ever just left like this?" Rose asked Dean. Both had flashlights now, and were looking for Sam. 

"Yeha, once." Dean said, flashing the light over to bushes on the other side of the road. No one there. He felt kind of bad because he hadn't really paid much attention to the fact Sam had been gone all day. He'd just thought he was venting or getting time to himself or some crap like that.

"Hey, Dean, thanks for not killing me last night," Rose laughed, but she was being sincere about it. "I was thinking maybe I could repay you in some way?"

Dean looked at her, bemused, "Like how?"

"Dinner, maybe?"


	15. 3 Is Too Damn Many People In A Small Car

"Dean!" Sam called out to his brother who was walking with, _ugh_, Rose. He tried jogging to them, but his head was about ready to burst open with pain. Instead, Dean jogged to him.

"Where were you all day?" Dean asked him. Sam looked over Dean's shoulder at an approaching Rose.

"I can't tell you with her here."

* * *

"Ok, so what was so important she couldn't have been here?" Dean said. They were both in their hotel room and Dean had sent Rose to go pack up some of her things so she could come on their little road trip to find the demon. 

"She's not supposed to be here to begin with," Sam said, and Dean rolled his eyes. "I had a premonition." Dean's eyes snapped from the water mark he'd been staring at on the ceiling to Sam.

"About what?" Dean demanded. Sam told him. "Your having visions of Jess again?" Dean asked.

"Thats not the important part." Sam said. "I had a vision, and not only that, I was out cold for the entire day afterwards."

"The entire day?" Dean asked.

"Where do you think I was all day? Out buying coffee and bonbons and shopping at the mall?" Sam shot back. "I was lying on sand all day, probably looking like a freak."

"No one bothered to do anything?" Dean asked. "Call 911 or something?" Sam shook his head no. "Probably thought you were homeless, with the look of those jeans." Sam looked down at his jeans. They had one hole in them, at the knees. Dean shouldn't be one to talk, his favorite pair had quite a few veteran holes in them.

"Not to mention," Dean added, "Your hair. You're starting to look like Luke freaking Skywalker."

"Can everyone stop about my hair?" Sam snapped. "I need a haircut; I get it, okay?" Dean simply smiled sweetly. "So, Blue River," Sam continued after a deep breath. "I think Its a city."

"Theres one way to find out," Dean said, pulling out the computer. "I love the internet," he said, smirking.

* * *

Rose had to sit on the Coach luggage bag in order to get it to close. And this was only her first suitcase. "Need some help?" Jasper asked her. "Still haven't learned how to pack light have you?" He smirked and helped her jam down the bag enough to close it. "So, how's it going with the boys?" 

"I'm going with them to try to find the demon they've been looking for," Rose said, pulling out a box full of shoes. "Just like you told me to. But I don't understand. Why do they have to be alive? Why is it so important that this 'Him' kills them 'him'self." Rose laughed at her own cheesy joke. Jasper avoided the question.

"Got enough shoes?" he asked Rose, as she sorted through the box.

"These are only boots," she said.

"You're kidding right?" Jasper asked her, and Rose looked up, her face anything but joking. "Guess not," he said. "Just as long as they get to Washington unharmed you should be fine. We'll give you further instructions when you get there."

"Oooh, do I finally get to meet who I get my orders from?" Rose said with mock excitement.

"Yes," Jasper said. "If you complete your assignment."

"Oh, how fun. Just call me Double-o eight," Rose said, finally picking out a pair of shoes. "My favorite pair," she said, admiring them. "Michael Kors boots never fail to impress me." Jasper was impressed at how she could walk in them without breaking both ankles. "I think I'll bring these. And... these. " She pulled out another box, this time full of sandals, and picked a pair of flip-flops. Miraculously, with just a little wedge of a heel to them. She pulled out another Coach Luggage bag and started putting more clothes in them. Packing was Rose's favorite part of the vacation.

* * *

"Blue River, Washington," Dean read from a visitor's guide website. "A beautiful serene place to just get away." He looked at Sam. "Think that's it?" he asked. 

"Your guess is as good as mine." Sam said. "It's close. And certainly closer than Blue River, Australia." It was the only other Blue River the computer search had come up with.

"Yeah, good, and this one doesn't require a plane trip," Dean said, practically shaking at the thought of a plane ride. Sam smiled and tried to keep from laughing. Sam put his head back down on the pillow. He was still queasy and feeling like he was going to spontaneouly burst into another vision. The feeling hadn't even lessened. That had certainly been a new kind of vision. Never before had he need knocked out cold for an entire day. He was kind of worried. And even more worried about the idea of Rose coming with them.

Speaking of the devil herself, Rose opened their door, pulling in two suitcases behind her. "Hey, do we know where we're going yet?" she asked, as if they were ready to embark on a cruise to the Bahamas or something.

"We think," Sam and Dean replied at the same time, however, Sam's voice was less cheery than Dean's.

"Aww, thats so cute..." Rose said, disregarding Sam's tone. She tried to get a grip on his head again, but it was impossible. And like before, Rose's grip on Dean's mind was still so loose. God, it was hard trying to persuade people the human way now. "So where are we off to, my friends?" Rose asked, as Dean shut the top of a laptop.

"Blue River, Washington," Dean said. Rose smiled.

"I've been there before!" she said. "We used to vacation there."

"We?" Sam asked.

"My ex-boyfriend Jasper Hughes and I." Rose said, looking down at her peep-toe wedges. "I think he may still live there."

Sam felt uneasy all over again. Like it was some kind of a whacked-up setup for them. Like they were walking into something. Sam was just feeling too many things that day.

"Well at least you know your way around town," Dean said, snapping Sam back into the present.

"How did you guys come up with Blue River?" Rose asked.

"Sammy heard of it in a vision," Dean said. Sam's jaw slacked. How dare he say something like that? Dean was way too overprotective of things like that! The only other person he'd ever told of what they did for a living had been Cassie. And Sam would go to all freaking costs to make sure this did NOT turn into what it did with Cassie. Any human or supernatural costs. He did NOT want this bitch as his sister-in-law.

Rose smiled. "Ok then, so what exactly are we looking for?" she asked, as if she was completely clueless.

"Well, our dad, first off." Sam was going to slaughter Dean if he made any mention about finding bullets for a gun that kills anything. "And the demon that killed our mom when we were younger." Sam sighed. No mention about finding the bullets. Dean hadn't made their #1 priority a public announcement. At least Dean hadn't lost ALL sight on what they were there for in the first place.

Rose nodded. "Alrightey then. Let's check out of this place and go."

"Things aren't that easy." Sam said, his tone getting frustrated. Did she think she could march in there and order them around? Like this was _her_ twenty-two year old revenge trip? No. No. NO. Sam couldn't wait until they ditched her. She was just not supposed to be there.

"Okay," Dean said, as if there was nothing more on the earth he'd rather do.

* * *

John Winchester felt defeated. First he'd been dragged to Canada and tied up. And now dragged back into the United States and tied to yet another pipe. And meanwhile everyone else thought he was dead. He found little hope in the fact his sons had come looking for him. The trail had probably gone cold for them now. He looked up and found a ray of sun flooding into the cellar of his prison. He sighed and wondered if after all his life, he might die in a cellar tied to a pipe, without even a fight. 

**Authors Note: I'm gettin pretty sad that no ones reviewing... did you all leave me??? I feel so alone... jkjk. But cmon people, read AND REVIEW. That's how it works. Ok???? Read AND REVIEW!!!! alritey, i better be getting some reviews soon! **

**Hey and another note... kinda off topic, but w/e... shout out if ur a My Chemical Romance fan. If you havent gotten the new 'Black Parade' cd by now... go out and get it!!!!!!!!!!! it rox!!!!!!!!!!!!**


	16. Kidnapped

Sam was going to be sick. As in roll down the window, somethings coming up, sick. Rose got his shotgun seat! She got to change the radio station and sing along to Cascada and John Mayer. She got to lean the seat back, and roll down the window. She had her perfectly manicured feet on the dashboard. Sam got to sit in the back, and didn't even get to be in on the conversation.

"Baby, it's getting late, how about we pull over," Rose said. Another thing, the nicknames. It was so puke-worthy Sam couldn't even begin to describe. It was beyond his mental grasp how Dean could be going for this! Seriously, Sam knew his brother was completely vulnerable to the female race but this was taking it too far.

"Here?" Dean asked, pulling into a Holiday Inn.

"Perfect, sweetheart." Rose hopped out to make reservations. Sweetheart, darling, dear, one more love and Sam was gonna go run back to Vancouver.

They used real money to get the hotel rooms. Not fake credit cards to the name of Joe Smith or so and so. Dean used the actual money that they had to get two rooms. Sam thought maybe when he asked for two rooms, the reality was (finally) bleeding into Dean's head. That was before Sam realised that one room was for him, and the other room was for Rose and Dean. Sam was caught between the feeling of wanting to barf and wanting to smack his brother out of this... spell.

"So how's it in here, Sammy?" Dean asked, coming in about ten minutes later. Sam just glared at his brother before returning to his channel surfing. "Sammy?"

"_Sweetheart??"_ Sam said, pushing his voice an octave higher mocking Rose.

"I've been getting a feeling you don't want her here." Dean's face fell.

"Really? I'm just _loving_ her being here, where did you get _that_ idea from?" Sam replied, chock full of sarcasm, all of which Dean didn't catch.

"Are you sure?"

Sam just rolled his eyes. "This isn't healthy, Dean," he said, pressing the power button on the TV to make it shut off. "You barely know Rose at all."

"You still don't believe her?" Dean said. "Lay off it, Sam, she's not a vampire." Sam laughed shortly.

"That may be true," Sam said, "but still... Just letting her come with us like this?" He thought a moment. "Are you trying to replace Dad in some weird way?" It made sense. Considering Dean had cried, and gotten over his father's death in a heartbeat, once Rose had entered the scene.

"Dad?" Dean said. "She sure doesn't _look_ like dad!" He smiled, but Sam could tell he'd hit a chord.

"Right, Dean, you just enjoy her company," Sam rolled his eyes. "And being called sweetheart and dear every other second. And you just love the music she puts on. I mean, who doesn't love some good Pussycat Dolls every now and then."

"Who wouldn't?" Dean asked, once again trying to lighten the mood again with an upbeat comment.

"_You_ wouldn't," Sam said. "What's up with you?"

"I'm leaving," Dean said, turning around to leave. "I don't have to put up with this."

"It's dad. You didn't even take the time to figure out he was gone, you just dove into this... weird relationship," Sam retorted, making Dean turn around. "If you can call it a relationship."

"Every stop to think maybe I need this? Just a little bit?" Dean said, and Sam stopped talking. Oh god, if Dean went soft on him, he was gonna pop in in the jaw. "Do you remember me crying for dad?" Yep, going soft. "Who could blame me? Just cuz you bury yourself in the computer and refuse to have a good time, doesn't mean I shouldn't," And he walked out.

Sam reviewed what they'd just said, and sort of laughed to himself.

_It sounds like we were two teenage girls fighting about nothing. Throw in a couple "Oh My Gods", and we'd have it made._

Sam was sick of Rose, utterly annoyed. The door unclicked again, and Sam thought Dean had come back. It wasn't; it was Rose.

"You," she said, closing the door and deadbolting it.

* * *

_Jesus, I cant get a grip on this guy!_ Rose thought, as she tried to grasp his mind yet again. "You think you know what I am..." She got right into Sam's face and Sam thought she was going to say something about her being a vampire, which he was halfway convinced of. "But you're wrong. I'm not a homewrecker. You can have your brother back when I'm done with him." She giggled like a middle schooler and skipped, practically, out of the room. 

From the looks of it, Rose and Dean were going out for dinner. Figures. Rose had turned Dean into a total sap. Perhaps they would come back into the hotel room and watch Legally Blonde and have a Valley Girl Marathon. Lucky them. Sam plopped his head back on the pillow and stared at the ceiling.

* * *

Rose's mind was wheeling at about one thousand miles per hour. She hated it, the not being able to sleep part. She would just always have energy. And it's not like she _needed_ to sleep anymore. That was besides the point. 

She looked over at Dean next to her and smiled. Right where she wanted him. If she could get Sam, she could walk them right into a trap. They'd end up with dear old dad. But Sam was too smart. And for some reason, immune to Rose's mind control. That's why she'd called in for backup.

* * *

"Housekeeping!" A knock at the door made Sam jump. He looked at the time. Housekeeping at 11:00 at night?? He looked out the peephole and unlocked the dead bolt. "You called down for extra towels?" 

"Umm, no?" Sam said, still confused and sleepy.

"Well, good, because I'm not here to clean anyway." The face of the stout woman in front of Sam started to twist, and she started to get taller, taller than Sam. Her clothes turned into a suit, with a thick jacket. Sam was looking up at a very muscular man, and beginning to think maybe today was just not his day. The man smiled, and two particularly long fangs protruded out of his upper gums. "Surprised Sammy?" His eyes flashed yellow, then red, and then black.

The vampire walked closer and Sam back up, trying to find the button on the phone used to hands free dial the office downstairs. Not much they could do even if the call got through. But the man/vampire saw what he was trying to do and ripped the phone line from the wall. _Oh... shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhoot,_ Sam thought, not having time to think as the intruder advanced.

Sam grabbed a chair, and thrust it at him. He took the hanger down from the small closet and yanked down the pole used to hold up the hangers. He held it like a baseball bat. "Boy, if you think that's gonna knock me out, you better think again." The vampire laughed, showing his teeth once again. If Sam could get to the bedside table where the gun loaded with silver bullets lay, waiting to be used.

He hopped on the bed and flipped to the other side just in time. He rummaged through the door and pulled it out and aimed.

"Oh, you make me laugh." The vampire said. "Shoot me, try. It takes one hell of a lot more than that to kill me." Sam shot, right to the heart. It was his best aim ever. The vampire sighed. "I didn't really want to be fishing any bullets outa my guts tonight; I wanna get home and watch some TV. But I guess your set on making sure I miss Prison Break aren't you?" Sam shot again. He'd have been proud of his amazing aim, but it was only of the fact that the shots weren't doing anything.

The vampire got closer, and breathed the words, "Look behind you," so close Sam could smell his putrid breath.

Sam didn't wanna look behind him, but he could feel the hands close over his mouth. Cold hands. Very cold, strong hands. "Goodnight, cutie," The vampire said. "Don't worry, we're just going to visit your dad."

**Author's Note: Review my friends, review. Please, or I will bring Sam and his puppy dog eyes and Dean and his Zoolander pout to sucker you into clicking that button that says 'submit a review'. And no one can resist the Sam eyes or the Dean pout. Believe me, its not human. The Sam eye's will get me anyday!!!! Mikey and Gerard Way rock (random) and my comment about the black parade from before still stands. **


	17. Talking with Daddy

Sam was pissed. Genuinely pissed. One, he'd gone down without much of a fight, and he didn't know how. And two, this was the second time in less than a week he'd passed out. He was shoved into the trunk of a car. His arms were tied behind his back, like he was in handcuffs, and there was a gag on his mouth.

There was a shred of light coming in from a spot in the trunk, but it wasn't sunlight, it was too late for that. It was probably headlights of other cars or street lights. Sam began to kick, maybe break a taillight or something. Problem was, it made a lot of racket.

"I wouldn't do that." He heard a muffled voice coming from the seats of the car. Sam didn't stop. He pulled out the wires for the taillight and kicked his way through the glass. "Awww, were almost there." The voice said again. "Can't wait five minutes?"

With a lot of effort, he managed to get his handcuffed hands in front of his body. Sam stuck his arms out the broken taillight. It's what they always told them to do, when they had the safety lectures in middle and high school, in case by chance, you were abducted and shoved in a car. Which, at that time in Sam's life, seemed really unlikely. If only he knew then.

The car was slowing down now. The brakes screeched and Sam's stomach lurched as he heard the door to the car closed. Then the key unlocking the trunk and then Sam finally got a glimpse of his abducter. It wasn't the guy who had been pretending to be housekeeping, back at the hotel. Sam suspected this was the guy who'd come behind him.

"Don't touch me," Sam tried to say, but it came out muffled and unintelligible due to the gag. The man loomed over him, tall and husky. Sam had no doubt this guy was captain of some sports team when he was in high school, which probably wasn't that long ago, he was about Sam's age. The man rolled up his sleeves and pulled Sam out of the car, struggling as Sam writhed to get out of his arms. "Let go!"

The man actually understood that. "I'd love to, but Im afraid I'm bad with knots..." He laughed and started walking toward a small house. Sam took time to actually look where he was at. They were no where near other people, as far as Sam could tell. They were smack in the middle of a very thick forest. The house they were walking to was small, and reminded Sam of the little house they had been in the night his father had been possessed by the demon. The day they'd gotten into the car accident...

Sam pulled himself out of his memory and started to remember what the demon had said as he was loosing consciousness. "Don't worry, we're just going to see your dad." Sam wondered if that ment see him in person, or... Sam shuddered, not even wanting to think of it.

"Open up." The man carrying Sam kicked the door and it opened. He dumped Sam on a lumpy, uncomfortable couch and went to close the door. He came back to Sam and dragged him once again, this time down a set of stairs.

"UH! MMMY!" An incomprehensible moan came from across the room, and Sam turned his head, stunned at first. There was someone else down there. Sam tried hard to look, but the basement was dark. Sam thought his hands were being untied for good, but he felt his arms get stretched across a pole and Sam was sitting back to back with metal.

"Family reunion, guys." The abducter said, and removed Sam's gag.

"Where... the hell... am I?" Sam asked, through his teeth.

"Awww, you don't even wanna talk to daddy?" The man turned on a light, and Sam looked at the other man, tied to another pole across the room. The one who had tried to talk through his very own gag, when Sam had first been dragged in. He looked tired, and scruffy, but the man was most definitely John Winchester.

* * *

Dean wiped his sweaty hands on his knees. "I'll be right back," Rose said, getting up to go to the bathroom. They were at an upper class restaurant, and they had just ordered. Steak and lobster. 

Once Rose was out of the room, Dean snapped back to himself. _Where... the hell... am I??_ He thought, the last thing he remembered was running away from someone in the woods of Vancouver. And this place was definitly not the woods of Vancouver. Where was he?

Slowly, looking around him, he started to remember. _Rose, _he thought. He had invited Rose to come with them to find their father? He felt like hed just woken up from a dream... or a year long sleep. Dean blinked several times and looked around him. A waiter came up to him and poured more wine. "Excuse me sir," Dean said, "where am I?"

"Cafe Le Paris," the waiter answered, in perfect french.

"I'm in _France_????" Dean asked, astounded.

"Sir, you're in Washington," the waiter answered through his smile, adopting what Dean assumed was his normal southern accent, a heavy drawl, looking at him like he was stupid.

"Oh, thank you." Dean let his mind wander off.

"Merci, monseur," the waiter responded, returning to his french accent once more as he strode off. Dean stood up. He was getting out of here, and back to Sam. He found a room key in his pocket and figured out where he was staying. He felt lost as he walked around the parking lot, searching for his car.

"Dean!" Rose called from the door to the restaurant.

Dean was immediatly drawn back to Rose, like a lovesick puppy. _Mind control just rocks sometimes. _Rose thought, as they walked back inside to enjoy some bread and wine.

* * *

"Where are we, dad?" Sam asked, once the man was out of the room. 

"Washington," John said, casting a watchful eye at the door.

"What are these people?" Sam asked, "They're not like any vampires I've ever seen."

"I know. I can't figure it out. They're like vampires in the normal way, you know, blood, fangs, decapitation--"

"Backstabbing," Sam added.

"The whole nine yards," John finished, half-smiling. Sam felt a bit of hope from going so long without seeing his father's face. "But Sammy, they can shapeshift. And they can control things about you. Your mind and they can make you think awful things."

_Dean, _Sam thought. If Rose was one of those mind-controlling freaks, it made sense why Dean was following her every command. _What a..._ Sam's mind wandered, but the sound of his dad's voice snapped him back again.

"Where's Dean?" John asked his youngest son.

"I'm... not sure." Sam replied, explaining the past week to their dad, from the day they thought he was dead.

"No, some nurse came into my room and said they might need to be doing more testing and I said okay, and she wheeled me out of my room. I knew something was wrong when she turned around and said I was never going to see you two again. I blacked out and woke up in a basement."

"This basement?" Sam asked. _So he was never in Vancouver??_

"No, one in Canada. That's where I called you guys, were you _in _Canada?"

"Yeah, we were," Sam said, wondering if maybe they'd gone down into the basement first like Dean had suggested that he wouldn't be in this position.

"There was another one of them." John said, "Tall, blonde, Dean's kinda girl I guess." Sam swore. It had been Rose. The little liar had been keeping their dad from them the entire time. "She was supposed to keep the bullets safe," John said. "She was drilling me one night, about whether I knew who was coming for them or not and she heard voices and footsteps from upstairs.

_That was us,_ Sam thought, his head sagging down. "And she left to go find out who it was," John continued. "About ten minutes later another guy came downstairs and knocked me out with a metal pipe. Woke up here." John shrugged and the lights began to flicker.

Sam wondered when John would ask where Dean was. Then Sam would have the pleasure of telling his dad he was off with a mind-controlling freak of a vampire. Sam would try to avoid that for as long as possible.

"So, where's my other son? How come they didn't get him, too?"

How could he avoid that?

**Authors Note: okayokay, no massive fight or chase scenes in this one, just one heck of a lot of explaining. Its not so much fun to read, i understand, i love the action chapters too, but idk, just wait until next chapter cuz u never know what im thinking of... evil laff kidding. ummm, as always, review and i should have the next chapter up soon! Luv y'all. **


	18. Frying Pan Fights

Dean drove them both back to the hotel. "Thank you for dinner," Rose said to the Dean who was focused straight on the road. Dean nodded slowly, trancelike.

They got back into the room and Rose went into the bathroom to shower. Dean snapped out of her mind grip once she got the water running. He looked around the small room, and immediatly knew he had to find his brother, He searched through his pocket and found a reciept for the rooms. Sam must have been in the room next to him.

He quietly snuck out of the room and knocked on the door to Sam's room. No one was answering. Dean used the second door key in his pocket to open the door. No one was in there.

Flashes of the past few days started to flood Dean's brain. _So this is what Sam feels every premonition,_ Dean thought as he leaned on the railing and lights flashed by his head. He could feel a massive headache coming on.

He burst into his room and began rummaging through Rose's bag. He found good lot of nothing until he came across a folded envelope. Inside were two peices of paper, one with the words "I will have them," written on it and another with the words P.O. Box 303, Blue River, Washington Post Office.

Dean looked up at the closed bathroom door, deciding whether to take his chance. She was singing an out of tune ballad, so Dean figured she might be in there a while. He grabbed his keys off of the bedside table and ran out the door. He got to the car, jammed the keys in the ignition, and drove as fast as he could. All the while, Rose was still under the hot water singing her Cascada.

* * *

"You are saying you have absolutely no idea where _my other son is?_" John said as Sam finished up the final part of the story, He was fuming.

"There was nothing I could do, dad! I mean, I think they're headed here!" Sam replied, wondering if they really were. "He's under _mind control!_"

"Then use your freakin' abilities, psychic, and get us out of here and let me find my other son!" John said, and immediatly fell quiet as the door swung open. Sam craned his neck to see, and caught glimpse of a pair of bright yellow eyes.

* * *

Dean looked at his watch. He'd had to stop to get gas at a local Citgo station. He'd traveled for four hours straight now, and he didn't know how much longer he could go without sleep. He looked back at the road in which he'd come. Rose, if she were smart, would be right on his tail. _Yeah, she should be awhile_, Dean thought, smirking to himself. He looked at the restaurant next to the gas station and realized he was starving.

He went inside, parking the car around the back of the restaurant. "Welcome to Mama's!" the peppy waitress said to him. "Pretty guy like you here all alone?" she said.

Dean smiled a bit as she led him to his table. He got a window seat, overlooking the parking lot perfectly. Good, so if Rose did decide to come, he could see first. Dean felt miles high as he ordered a beer from the waitress.

* * *

_Where was he?_ Rose nearly screamed it as she got out of the bathroom. _Oh, mother... _Rose said, as she found the keys missing. The car was gone. She picked up her phone and found it out of area. She screamed a little exhaustion out of her. She stalked out of the room, not even bothering to lock it behind her. She took off down the road, following his smell and running faster than she ever had before.

Dean didn't see her car coming, as he chowed on his steak and potatoes. the reason being that she wasn't_ in_ a car. She saw him through the window and was inside before he could blink. "I'm with him," she snarled at the waitress who welcomed her in, and pointed at Dean. Dean looked up as she came toward him. He stood up and promptly knocked over a waitress carrying a full tray of iced tea and cokes.

"There's only oh so far you can run in here," Rose snapped as he tried to get into the kitchen.

"Angry ex?" asked Dean's waitress.

"Not exactly. But she wont hesitate to get violent," Dean replied making his way around a partition. Rose was circling him like a mountain lion. The manager of the store had come out and put his hand on Rose's shoulder.

"Ma'am," he had started to say, but she had swung around too fast for him to even comprehend.

"Don't you start on me." She spun back around but Dean had run back into kitchen somewhere.

_No!_ she thought, and tried attaching her mind to his, but it was shorting out. Perhaps it was because he already knew the truth about her. Maybe that was why she couldn't latch onto Sam either. She went stalking into the gleaming white kitchen. Silver pots hung from the ceiling and Rose grabbed the most threatening looking one. It was heavier than expected, but she grabbed it like a baseball bat and put it over her shoulder.

_Wait a second, a_ voice in the back of Rose's head went. _Am I losing my mind?_ Rose evaluated where she stood. She was going after a guy with a frying pan. It wasn't the first time... but this one hadn't exactly cheated on her like the last guy had. And not with her best friend either. Dean really didn't deserve it like he had... But that was a story for a different time.

She turned around, hearing a clang of another pan and found Dean ready to knock her out. They swung each pan at the same time and they banged together with an explosive noise. The cooks looked up and scrambled to get out of the room. Rose took a steak knife from the counter and flung it at Dean. _He is supposed to be under my control! _Rose thought angrily. _I was supposed to bring him to Him and I was supposed to be rewarded. _

Dean dodged the knife barely and swung the pan at her again. Rose ran to the other side of a stove and grabbed another pan full of seasoning and olive oil, and thrust it at Dean. He missed the hot oils but slid on them as he walked toward her. He caught himself on the edge of another stove, but burned himself and shrieked in pain.

Rose walked forward to him, but Dean grabbed her leg and pulled her down as a last resort and she went crashing down. Dean scrambled to his own feet and fled the kitchen. "Dean!" Rose screamed in agony, rubbing her thighs as she pulled herself up. The entire restaurant was outside, whispering about the crazy couple in need of counseling that was inside. The manager had called the police.

Dean had lost Rose. He looked around him, wondering where she was. Heck, she could be _anywhere_ in that place. Behind any wall or podium, or partition, underneath any table. He thought it best if he ran for the door. A stiletto heel tripped him easily as he was a few feet from the mahogony door and its gleaming silver knob that screamed freedom. Too late, though. Dean was down, and had smashed his nose in the process.

"Really, Dean?" Rose said. "I thought you would be the easy one. Now I guess I gotta do this my way." She put her heel on the back of Dean's neck and he tried to sit up, but immediatly lay back down. "That's what I thought."


	19. Visions of Bullets Danced In His Head

"Okay," Dean said, on the floor, nose down with a stiletto heel pushed down precariously into the base of his neck. The sirens of the police that someone had called echoed in the distance.

"We are going to get up, go to your car, and I will drive us away," Rose said, "Got it?" She grabbed Dean's hands and twisted them behind his back with strength Dean was ashamed to say he couldn't break. She dragged him out and past the crowd of people who backed away and let her pass. She shoved Dean into the backseat and they drove off while the police followed behind them, lights on, sirens blasting.

"See what you get us into, Dean?" Rose said, pressing down onto the gas pedal as far down as it would go. The engine chugged hopefully and picked up speed. She made a hairpin turn and lost them easily. "Now that_ that's_ taken care of..." she said as if it were a daily thing for her to be in a police chase.

_Then again,_ Dean thought.

"Where's my brother, bitch?" Dean said, right away, knowing fully well she wouldn't tell him. _It's always worth a shot._

"Such language today, Dean," Rose said, clicking her tongue. Dean flipped up into the front seat easily. "You don't want to do that Dean," she said as he reached for her hands. "If we crash, I can take a hell of a lot more pain than you can." She smiled sweetly and Dean realized she was probably right.

"Are you taking me to Sam?" Dean asked, turning in his seat so his back was against the window.

"So worried to see your sweet younger brother," Rose said. "Tell me this, Dean. How do you know he's still alive?" Chills ran down Dean's spine. He was truly wondering if she was right. He couldn't tell. Rose glanced over at him, smirking. "He's fine, Dean. So is your father. They will be as long as you cooperate, as long as you don't do something stupid," she said, as if she were speaking to a three year old. "If you do..." she trailed off suggestively. "Well, I'm afraid something not-so-good will happen to poor, defenseless little Sammy. All it takes is one phone call." Her eyes glinted evilly as she caught the scared look on his face. He exhaled slowly, not wanting to believe it, to not believe Sam's life was in the hands of this crazy bitch.

"Question is... are you sure_ you'll_ be okay?" she asked.

Oh, yeah, they were screwed.

* * *

"Hello, Sammy." Yellow Eyes stared back at him. Sam wanted to spit at him; his face was less then ten inches away. "How have you been? Tell me. Any more girlfriends die plastered to the ceiling?" He chuckled, and knelt on the floor, still inches from Sam's face. His breath smelled like rotten eggs. Sam felt his gag reflex start to work. 

"How about a drink, boys?" Yellow Eyes said, pulling out a bottle of dark liquid from a table near the door. "Three cheers, okay?" He laughed, taking a swig, before pouring out three glasses of the mysterious liquid. Sam didn't care what it was at that point.

"Three cheers for sweet revenge," Sam finally said, and took his chance at revealing he had untied himself. He jumped up and pulled a gun out on the demon and shot, knowing fully well it would do no good. The demon nonetheless ducked out of the way of the speeding bullet. Sam took a pocket knife from his back pocket and cut his dad free in one swift motion. "Run!" he demanded, and John took off.

"Just you and me now, Sammy," the demon said. "Put that down," he said, eyeing the gun. "You know it won't work." He grinned and his teeth were the shade of his eyes. It was revolting. Sam was farther from the door, and he would have to pass through the demon to be out again. He waited, hoping to god his dad would get the hint.

"I said put it down," the demon demanded again. Sam simply stared, and the demon shook his head. "Have it your way," he said, his eyes turning a shade darker as he prepared to use his powers.

After a split second that seemed like an eternity, John came bolting back through the door, and slammed a glass vase down on the demons head. It was enough of a distraction for them to run. "Didn't think you were coming back for a second," Sam yelled out to his father.

"Never would I leave one of my boys behind," John said, kicking it into full gear as the demon sprinted behind them. Sam didn't bring up the many times he _had_ left them. John hot-wired the car out front almost as fast as Dean could have. Like father like son.

Sam yanked out his half-dead cell phone and dialed Dean's number. "Pick up. Pick up. Pick up."

* * *

Dean felt the phone vibrate in his pocket. Pulling it out slowly, and inconspicuously. he saw the caller ID. Sam. He pressed the green button hoping Sam would get it. "Rose? Can we pull over?" 

"Whatever the hell for?" she said sweetly. Dean was pretty sure Sam got the drift when he didn't hang up.

"I've gotta use the little boys room," Dean retorted, his voice just as fake sweet. Rose made a hairpin turn into a gas station.

"We need to refuel anyway." Rose said. "Don't think about sneaking away. It wont work."

"Got it," Dean said, jogging inside. "Sammy?"

"Dean, good," Sam said. "I've got dad."

"Are you guys locked up somewhere?"

"How could I call if I was locked up?" Sam asked. "Not anymore." Dean heard Sam croak out a "hold on."

"Sammy?" Dean asked, worried as he heard nothing frm the other line.

"Dean?" It was their dad. "I think he's having a vision. Can we call you back?"

"Yeah, because_ all_ I do is wait around for these calls. How about a 'no'?" Dean said, too late though. John had hung up the phone. "What do I look like, a teenage girl waiting for her lover to call?"

* * *

_It was dark. And fuzzy. But then again, weren't _all_ visions that way? A bright face popped into view. Rose. She was holding a case. Brown leather case. She unzipped it and looked inside, counting carefully. When she'd finished, she seemed satisfied enough, and closed it. One silver bullet popped out and she picked it up, looking around her. _

_

* * *

_

Rose had the bullets, Sam realized, bolting up.

**Ya'll should know the drill. Read and review. More coming. Happy holidays to u guys!!! No matter what u guys celebrate, i dont care, have a happy holiday. **


	20. 22 Years Have Waited For This

Dean was back in the car when the text message came in. _Good, they didn't try to call me again_, Dean thought. He opened his phone beside him on the seat, praying Rose wouldn't look over. He didn't think she would. She hadn't looked up at all since they'd started driving again.

_Rose has them. _Dean read it over and over before texting back an "_ru sure?"_ and deleting the messages. He left it on the seat. He tried to change the radio station from the fuzzy nothingness, but Rose slapped his hand away.

"Problem?" Dean asked, taking his hand back.

"You forget that you have no freedom in this car." Rose said. Dean laughed and snorted at the same time. "You don't," Rose said, more to confirm it herself.

Dean felt the phone vibrate again and looked down. _I'm sure. Where r u right now?_ Dean looked up at a street sign and texted back, once again deleting the messages. He glanced up at Rose, whose eyes were still glued on the road. "Considering your not controlling me anymore, it seems I _do_ have some freedom." He wanted to push her buttons today.

_When you get up to 56th street, jump out. _Dean read the text twice.

_What?_ Dean replied.

_We're by the 56th Street market__. Jump out of the car. We'll be there, don't worry. _Dean deleted all the messages. He wasn't jumping out of the car. Were they crazy? He still needed to get the bullets, too, from Rose. He watched as 54th street passed by. He put his hand on his seat belt and slipped his phone into his pocket again. He rested his hand on the door handle. 55th street passed by.

_I'm crazy. _Dean thought as he got ready to jump. Looking ahead, he could see a grassy area and just beyond that, a car. Sitting in the driver's seat was his dad. _Don't screw this up._ He jumped.

* * *

Rose stopped the car in a suddem screeching motion and the car in back of her swerved and cursed at her out of the open window. 

Dean was already into the hot-wired car. He slammed the door shut and his dad took off down a side road.

Rose swore as she managed to pull the car into a tight turn. Car chases weren't her forte. "Why doesn't anyone ever cooperate?" she said out loud, stepping on the gas.

* * *

"Did we lose her?" Sam asked John. 

"I think so." John answered before glancing at Dean in the rearview. "Hey Dean."

"Hey dad," Dean whispered. He was actually here. Really, truly here.

John turned to Sam. "What was the name of that hotel?"

"Moondance Hotel," Sam said. Dean was lost. Sam turned around in his seat.

"Why are we going to the Moondance Hotel?" Dean asked.

"My vision. I had another one." Sam said. "The first one was just Rose with the bullets. The second one was her with the bullets. She set them down inside the bedside table in a place called the Moondance Hotel, and left to go get dinner. We're gonna break in."

"How do we know this isn't a trap?" Dean asked, skeptical. Then again, Dean shouldn't be skeptical about _anything_ at this point. His dad had risen frm the dead practically and was sitting in front of him, for god's sake.

"Because Sammy saw her get in her car, and drive away and sit down in a cafe with some guy," John said, confidently.

"I guess it helps to have a psychic brother," Dean said, looking up at Sam.

"Now we just have to figure out how to not make it hurt so much."

* * *

Rose was mad. She pulled into a hotel parking lot and called Jasper. 

"You_ what_?" he said in an incredulous tone.

"I'm bad at this." Rose replied.

"Stay there. Get a hotel room. I'll be there as fast as I can," Jasper said, annoyed. "How could you let this happen? Never mind. Just get a room and wait. They shouldn't go all too far." He hung up and Rose put her head on the steering wheel. Looking up, she saw she was parked in front of the Moondance Hotel.

_This place is as good as any, s_he thought and parked the car.

* * *

"This is idiotic," Dean said. They were just going to wait here for her to leave? He felt like a five year old spying on his next door neighbor. 

It was as if their dad had never left. There had been no heart-felt 'hello' or a 'nice to see you alive' or anything like that.

"Shh!" Sam said as Dean opened his mouth to comment. Rose had just come outside. She checked to make sure the door was locked before getting in her car and driving.

"OK, Sammy," John said. Sam went into the front office, swaggering to the front desk. Dean watched as Sam pulled off a very impressive drunk impersonation and got the conceirge to hand him a door key. Sam swaggered back out and once he was out of sight, walked normal. He jogged back to them, handing off the key to his dad.

"Dad's gonna go in there and say the key to his room's not working. They'll recode it."

"Easy as that?" Dean asked.

"You bet. I used to do that all the time on New Year's when we would all go out drinking and none of us wanted to go home." Sam smiled. "Got caught only once. And that's because Jess ratted us out and demanded she pay for the room."

"Why do you always date girls with a conscience?" Dean laughed as their dad came back out. He smiled and flipped the card key back and forth in his hands.

* * *

"How'd you get here so fast?" Rose said, sitting down across from Jasper. 

"Plane." He looked at her as if that were a given. "Now explain to me how the heck you let this happen?"

"He jumped out of my car, how could I know he was gonna do that?" Rose retorted, looking up at the waitress and ordering a Coke. The waitress shot her a look and then went into the back to get it.

"You didn't restrain him, knock him out?" Jasper asked. "Lock the freaking doors?"

* * *

Sam thrust the bedside table open and stared at the brown case. John reached in and pulled it out. "Twenty-two years," he whispered. "Mary. Its for you." He opened it and stared silently at the twelve bullets laying side by side.

**A/N; 2 chaps in 1 day. u guys r lucky! lol. It was fun. U gotsta have sumthing to say about this one... cmon, review. **


	21. Dream or Vision

It was a freeing feeling, Sam had to admit. To hold the little silver peices in his hand and realize this was their chance. Really truly, there was a chance to get this thing gone. And it was the best feeling in the world to Sam.

He looked up to see his dad load the Colt with three of the bullets and cock the gun. "Ok, then, let's get moving." Did John have tears in his eyes? Sam looked closer; no. Dean was busily scribbling down a note in his messy handwriting to Rose and stuck it in the cabinet before they all went out the door.

* * *

Jasper was mad. Madder than Rose had ever seen him before. The car ride back to her hotel room was menacingly quiet. They marched back to her hotel room and he put his bag on the second bed. Still silent, he walked over to the sink to splash water on his face, running a hand through his hair in the process. He was dead silent; not even his footsteps sounded out as he lay down on the bed. 

"Anything I can do?" Rose asked in a whisper, but in the silence it sounded like a scream.

"Get a maid down here for more pillows," he said in monotone, putting an arm behind his head. Rose dialed the main office.

Jasper had turned the TV on now, but the volume was dialed way down. Rose didn't want to ask him to turn it up. He looked like he might attack.

About ten minutes of awkard silence passed, and Rose found herself jump as housekeeping knocked on the door. She stood up to answer it, but Jasper got there first.

"Pillows?" the short, stout, elderly woman croaked out, completely unaware that it would be her last word. Ever.

Jasper took the pillows from her, and in one fast motion slit her throat with a pocketknife.

* * *

"So you think the demon is going to strike around this town?" Dean pointed to a small town south of Seattle, looking up at John. 

"I'm pretty sure, yeah," John said, with an inarguable authority in his voice.

"How do you know?" Sam asked. Dean and John shot him identical 'shut up, Sam' looks. Sam reflexively held up his arms in mock surrender. "_Sorry_," he muttered.

They were standing around the trunk of the car underneath the glaring lights of a racecar gas and truck stop. The map of Washington was sprawled across the trunk. Looking up at the semi's still made Dean shiver, remembering the night one had crashed solidly into the side of his beloved car. His car. He wondered if it would ever be able to run again.

"Looks like that's where were headed then," Dean said, climbing into the driver's seat. "Sammy, see if you can hack into the town's files and records on that handy computer of yours."

John slid into shotgun seat; map in his hand, spilling over onto the dashboard.

Sammy smiled to himself as he slid into the back seat and popped open the notebook computer. If he couldn't carry on a normal life, then he'd much rather do these things as a complete family, no matter how weird they were.

* * *

"Jasper!" Rose said, her voice cracking as he dragged the bleeding woman inside, completely undisturbed. Was this like a normal thing for him? Cutting innocent people's throats and... what the heck was he doing now? He took a gold chalice and pressed it into her bleeding neck, letting it collect the blood. "Oh, gross," Rose shrieked, stepping as far back as she could, trying not to lose her dinner. 

He let the lady fall on the floor, as he kicked the door close. "What the..." Rose let her voice trail as Jasper put two fingers into the _blood_ and stirred in a counter clockwise motion.

"Dies irae-dies illa, kyrie eleison. Yitgadal v'yitkadash," Jasper chocked out in slow scholarly Latin. This brought a weird understanding of calling it "the Dead Language".

"Of course," Jasper said, in english this time, making Rose look up, thinking he was talking to her. "Yes, of couse. That's right- yes sir." Rose looked at him quizzically.

He calmly got up and dumped the blood down the drain and washed out the chalice. He grabbed both his and Rose's bags. "Get everything, let's go." Rose reached into the bedside table where she had put the bullets. Her hand scraped the bottom and found a note.

_I couldn't leave you without a souvenir now could I?- Dean. _

"Hey Jas..." Rose said, her voice shaky once more. "I think we may have another problem."

* * *

_Sam was walking down another hallway. Long, cold, wet hallway.He splashed in puddles as he walked, faster now, toward a mahogany door. He reached out to open the door. Locked. He watched as Dean unlocked it, and stepped back. The door swung wide open. It was a house. To the left slept a teenage girl on the sofa and to the right was a kitchen. In front of him stretched a tall, steep, staircase. He grabbed the handrail and hoisted himself up the steps. _

_He was at the top. Another long hallway. He started to walk down this one, too, but stumbled on something. He looked down and screamed. It was John. On the floor. Dead. Bullet to his head. _

_"Dad..." he choked out._

_How could this be happening, after everything they'd been through? How could they get their dad back and then lose him like this again?_

_"Dean," he called. No response from him either. Where was he? Had whatever killed his father gotten to Dean, too? Was it coming for him?_

_"Dean!"_

Sam jolted up in his seat. His dad was still in the shotgun seat. Dean was still driving. They were still all safe. He hoped that somehow it was a normal human nightmare instead of a premonition.

Sam cradled his head as a headache crept forward. No, it wasn't gonna happen. He tried to ignore the throbbing in his head and clicked on his computer once more.

**Short chapter guys... I'm sorry. Kinda gross, too. Had to happen, I guess. It's coming to a close. I'd say less than five chapters till the end. Review please! **


	22. Calm Before The Storm

Chapter 22:

Dean got out of the car and stood in front of the house. It was modest: two stories, painted an off-white. The garage was open and a muscular teenager was lying beneath a car on a mechanic's bench. Dean walked up to him. The teenager took one look at John and pulled himself out from underneath the old Chevy.

"Wow, is that yours?" Dean asked. He hadn't been meaning to ask that, but wow. "What year is that?"

"'69 Chevy Impala," the kid answered back.

"I got a 67 back home," Dean said in awe. "How--" He remembered why he was there. "Sorry," he said, "I was actually just looking for directions."

"That's ok. I get carried away by my car, too." The teenager laughed and looked down. "Directions to where?" he asked.

"Well, we were just headed to--" Dean started to explain but found it unnecessary.

"Greg, honey, could you watch Beth while I run out to the store?" A shorter woman came outside, a baby in her arms, wrapped tightly in a blanket. A baby about six months old y the size of it. "Hello!" she said, cheerily, looking up at Dean unexpectedly. She rushed the baby girl into Greg's arms and whisked away.

"Sorry about my mom," Greg said as the baby started to cry. "Elizabeth!" he said in a higher voice, trying to calm her down, and rocking her. "I give up," he said after a while. "You're not even my full blood sister," he said in a tone he regretted, by the look of his face. "Sorry," he apologized to Dean again. "Mom gets remarried and has another kid, you get stuck watching her all the time." He looked like he needed to explain himself.

"How old?" Dean asked, trying to make it sound as if it were just out of curiousity.

Greg looked caught. "I... don't know. Maybe six months. What's today?" He looked at his expensive many-dialed watch. "Six months today, I guess."

"Anyway, directions--" Dean said, having his answer already. "Any cheap hotel near here? I'm here to visit my mom, just need a place to stay."

Greg looked behind Dean at the car with Sam and John in it. "It's her birthday. I got my uncle and brother down here too, you see." Greg smiled, still bouncing Elizabeth in his arms.

"Sure, there are a couple places near here," he said.

* * *

"Elizabeth Marie Kingsley," Sam said out loud, as Dean closed the door to the car. "Born six months ago today. I think it's safe to say that's her." 

"Yeah, it is," Dean said, looking out the window at the storm clouds rolling in. A strong breeze blew through, making all the trees sway. Sam noticed it too, trying not to tie it in with his previous dream/vision. He was still holding out on the hope it was just a dream. It was looking less and less prospective.

"Born at 11:49 tonight." Sam said, trying to get his mind off of his paranormal abilities. "What's the plan?"

"We're gonna go in there at 11:49 and shoot it." Dean gave Sam a 'No freakin duh, idiot' look in the rearview mirror.

"Dad, maybe you should stay at the hotel," Sam said, knowing it would be useless. John laughed.

"Why would I do that, Sammy?"

_Because you might die..._ "You've had a long last week, maybe you should rest." It sounded pathetic even as the sentences formed in Sam's brain. Dean rolled his eyes.

"I'm not going to miss this, Sammy."

* * *

Greg stepped into the house and put the baby down on the table. He looked at his reflection as he grew ever so taller, his face changing to resemble someone else. The car pulled back up into the driveway and the short woman got out. Her face changed as she walked into the house, taller, slender, blonde. 

"Think it worked, Jas?" she asked Jasper, who a minute ago had been Greg, the teenager.

"Yeah," he replied. "Nice job on your first shapeshift, too, very believeable, Rose."

"You too, you were a hot teenager!" Rose laughed and swept her hair back behind her ears, and looked back at the baby Elizabeth. "Guess I should return this to the school now." She turned it upside down and switched it off. It was a toy, a teaching tool. "Just gotta wait now."

Jasper smiled at Rose and nodded.

* * *

John loaded more bullets into the barrel of the Colt. Sam sat at the window, staring at the dark clouds overhead. He couldn't lose his dad _again._ It seemed like all he did was lose people. And he wasn't gonna let it happen now that he could see it beforehand. He looked up at John, whose face was lit up like a christmas tree. 

Well, things were different from his vision. For one, the door hadn't been mahogany. It had been a french door, white, with stained glass. _See, _Sam thought to himself. And this house was only two stories. If he remembered right, the house in his dream had been a mansion. _Way_ more than two stories. Sam shook his head. _It's not going to happen._ He hadn't blacked out, simply fallen asleep. What? Now he couldn't sleep? Was that it?

"Sammy?" Dean said, "You okay there?" Sam nodded. "Looking kinda sick there..."

"No. I'm good," Sam said, glancing at the clock uneasily. Ten o clock. His stomach lurched, loudly.

"You sure?" Dean said, looking half worried, half scared. "Nervous?" He asked, smiling.

"No. I'm good," Sam repeated, feeling like a broken record. John mentioned something to Dean and Dean's attention was off of Sam. "I'm good," Sam repeated quietly to himself. _Maybe if I say it enough, I'll believe it._

_

* * *

_

"Ready, Rose?" Jasper said, as the clock ticked nearer to showtime.

"You bet," Rose said, and Jasper closed the door. Rose had her hand on the Stereo Remote Control. "Ready as ever." Rose smiled. Maybe a bit of her was a bit evil. Well, this _was _what she had wanted. She signed up for the job, she got the responsibility.

"Will this be the rest of forever?" she wondered.

* * *

Jasper went down the stairs, three at a time. He turned into the kitchen, and found himself face to face with yellow eyes. "Oh," he said lamely. 

"Didn't think I'd show up for this?" he asked. "Like I'd miss a chance to bring down the Winchesters."

Jasper regained his composure. "Of course not."

**Word to the wise: Be ready for a war**


	23. The Beginning Of The End

The Beginning of the End (Part One)

The pontiac was parked around the corner at 11:30 that night. It still hadn't rained, to Sam's amusement. It hadn't even started to thunder, but the the clouds were still there. Nonetheless, the difference in details made Sam ever so happy. It couldn't be true this way. At 11:45 John, Dean and Sam walked aruond to the front yard. A huge gust of wind blew, making Dean shiver and zip up his jacket. The wind knocked a few leaves from the oak tree onto the pathway to the side door.

John crept around the house, peeking into windows and circled the property. "No one's awake in there," he whispered to his sons, when he got back around to the front yard.

"Yeah,_ yet_," Dean said so softly Sam could barely hear it, and he was standing inches from him.

John had his head down and was muttering something to himself and Dean kept repeating "It's almost over" to himself. Sam stood in silence, staring at the top, middle window of the house.

The walked up to the side door, connecting into the garage, which to Sam's utmost relief wasn't mahogany. John fiddled with the lock, to try to get it undone and Sam saw Dean reach for his gun. Sam did the same. The had all decided (rather **un**-unanimously) that John would be the one with the Colt. It wasn't that Sam wanted the Colt himself, it was that he figured it'd put his dad in even more danger.

However, now that he looked at it, it was better with John than it was with Dean. Dean tended to have a quick but not so smart mind when he had a gun in his hand. It was better that it wasn't a kill everything gun he was carrying.

Dean heaved a heavy sigh as John picked the lock. "Hey, just because I'm not a master lock artist like yourself doesn't mean I can't get the lock open. Besides, you make too much noise when it's too hard to unlock." John swung the door open and let them all inside before closing it again, quietly.

They manuevered around the '69 Impala sitting in the garage, which even John had to admire for a second before his motives came back to him, and opened the door leading into the kitchen.

The kitchen glared with all its shiny new appliances. Moonlight filtered in from a skylight above in the high ceiling and bounced down and off of every surface in the room. They could have turned a light on and it would have made no difference. It was lit up like a Christmas tree in that kitchen. Dean silently cursed chrome ovens and stoves; they looked too much like mirrors to him. He saw his own face off of about thirty different electric devices, like the coffee pot. It was so shiny, he could see his eyes magnified about ten times their own size stare back at him.

Which was another story all together. On the side of the staircase was a collection of mirrors. _What is it with this family? Are we dealing with Bloody Mary again? _Dean thought. No one went up the stairs, Sam and Dean peered around the rest of the first floor. John stayed by the staircase.

John heard the baby cry, and so did Sam, who walked back to the staircase. It got louder all of a sudden and Dean was next to them in an instant. All three of them peered carefully up the steps.

* * *

Rose pushed the play button on the stereo and jacked up the volume. She creaked open the "nursery" room door.

"I'll get it hon," she said in a fake sleepy voice that was just loud enough for someone waiting at the bottom of the stairs to hear. She saw Jasper close the door to the room across from her, but not before winking at her. She heard three sets of feet trudging up the stairs. Good.

_My chance to redeem myself,_ Rose thought. _I've not been a very effective vampire._ _Got to start somewhere, I suppose. _She stepped back into the shadows of the huge room, along the same wall as the door. Now or never.

* * *

Jasper staked out in the room across from Rose.

_Ok, I've got the psychic. Rose has the older one. Or she should. She was warned to leave John._ John was strictly off limits for the both of them. The oldest Winchester had a date with another demon tonight. He heard them start to come down the hallway long hallway. _Showtime._

_

* * *

_

A clash of lightning made Dean's insides rearrange, as they were halfways to the room where the noises were coming from. Sam could have sworn he'd seen a shadow from the sudden flash of light. He spun around, but there was no one there. _Paranoid, anyone?_

It was a long hallway with two doors on each side and one at the end. The farthest one on the left was making all the racket. That was the nursery, Sam presumed. But there was something odd about the one across the hall from it. They got down to the very end of the hall. "Hold on," Sam whispered, trying to get into the one across the hallway.

"There's no time for that, Sammy," John growled out, softly. Sam's hand was on the handle, he couldn't shake that feeling. He almost went inside, but the crying got louder, if possible, and he went to join his own family.

"Three... Two... One..." John counted down and swung the door open. He walked in, followed by Dean and Sam to the crib at the back wall. The reached insde to find... nothing.

"Winchesters! So nice to see you!" Rose came out of the shadows and pressed a button on what looked like a remote. The crying stopped. Dean swore, rolled his eyes and lifted up his gun, and shot.

**I'm getting kind of sad here, now that its almost over. :( cheer me up by reviewing:) lol. **


	24. The War

Chapter 24: The War

The bullet of course, hit Rose square in the face, but it bounced off like a marble. She gave him an 'Oh please don't tell me you thought that would actually work?' look. Sam turned around and ran smack into a guy taller than he was, and that was saying something.

"Meet Jasper," Rose said, smiling. Sam was yanked out of the room and into the hallway.

Sam heard several shots ring out in the room. And then he heard Rose swear, so he was pretty sure something had hit her. Sam was a bit too preoccupied to check it out, seeing as his head collided solidly with a picture frame hanging on the wall of the hallway. The glass shattered, but Sam was sure none of it had entered his skull. He hoped it didn't, but it wasn't like he was gonna investigate that minute. He ducked down as Jasper tried to swing a punch at his jaw line and threw a hard punch himself to Jasper's left side.

Sam considered shooting his gun at Jasper, knowing full well it wouldn't work, but it would send the message to Dean and his dad right away. He pulled the trigger less than two inches from Jasper's face and the bullet buried it self in his eye. "Jesus Christ!" Jasper screamed, and Sam shot again. Taking his chance, he ran back into the room with John and Dean, but not before knocking Jasper into his own picture frame.

Somehow Dean had gotten a hold of the Colt, and John didn't look too happy about it. Rose was literally on Dean's back like a five year old at recess and Dean looked lost. John tugged Rose down and Sam got the Colt away from Dean quite easily. John held Rose against the wall and Sam shot her in the forehead. "Come on..." she said, sinking to the floor in a heap. She still wasn't dead. What would it take?

Sam's ears were ringing. He backed up against the wall, heaving hard, and reaching the the back of his head to see that there really was no glass in there. "Oh, joy," he said pulling out a small shard and nearly passing out. He was ready to collapse on the floor when he heard another gun fire, near the door. He heard Dean fall.

Dean said a string of curse words that a sailor would have been proud of. Standing in the doorway was Jasper, gun pointed at where Dean had been standing, squinting through one eye. Sam looked down at the Colt, in his hand and considered tossing it to John, but instead, shot the gun himself. It grazed the side of Jasper's head. Jasper ducked back into the room across the hall.

Sam looked down at Dean, who had been shot in the arm. "What are you looking at me for?" Dean said. "Go!" John knelt by Dean, not noticing Rose was behind them, lifting something metallic into the air as if to hit them like it was a club.

"Behind you," Sam said and John looked back in time to wrestle her weapon out of her hands and hold her down.

Sam took off after Jasper. He stood in the door frame and Jasper, who had been standing behind the door, slammed the door into him.

"Damn it!" Sam said, reaching for his head, which had collided with the door first. His eyes were hazing over. He felt John behind him take the gun out of his hand and shoot for Jasper. Sam sunk down to the ground, his vision fogging over. Not the right time to have a vision. At all.

It was a crappy vision too, short and uninformative. Just a pair of yellow eyes and laughter that would make any sane person shiver. Sam's eyes came back into focus relatively easily, as after vision focus was concerned and Sam saw his dad and Jasper locked in a hand to hand battle. The colt had been tossed on the floor. _Man, I wish I'd have seen the move that made Dad drop that!_ Sam thought, before scuttling over to pick it up. He swore against the headache pounding on his skull, and looked up at his dad and Jasper.

He couldn't shoot. He just couldn't; there was more of a chance it would blindly hit John than it would hit Jasper. He just couldn't shoot. Not now.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled from the floor of the other room. Both he and Rose were wounded, but still both of them were still fighting. Sam sighed. Why was he the one with the gun? How had that happened? He walked into the room with Rose and Dean and shot Rose in the back of the head. Dean heaved her off of him.

"Finally, right?" Dean said, shoving her into the corner. Sam helped Dean up, and Dean surveyed the damage done to his arm. He looked back up, and his eyes widened.

Sam looked back and thought he was back in his vision. Standing, blocking his view from seeing his dad and Jasper was a dark figure. The figure shot a look over his shoulder and Sam could see yellow eyes.

Sam raised the Colt at the same time the demon raised his own gun. Both of them shot at what seemed the same time. The bullet from the Colt went flying into the demon's head, but at the same time, the demon's bullet went flying into John.

"Oh hell no!" Dean said.

John crumpled to the floor, and still alive, rolled to the corner and Sam shot again. He was furious. The yellow eyed demon fell to the floor and Sam kept shooting, this time at Jasper. The second shot made Jasper fall, motionless.

Dean kicked the demon out of the way and both Winchester boys ran to their dad.

"Come on, come on, come on," Sam said, hoisting him onto the guest bed.

"Sammy, let go of me," John said in his normal tone, given it was a little less forced.

"Dad, were gonna get you to a hospital, okay?" Dean said, taking out his cell phone before realising it had been crushed to peices when he had been fighting one handidly with Rose. Sam threw his own phone Dean's way, without looking.

Battery's dead, stupid," Dean said, but the insult was weak.

John started to cough up blood. "Where did the bullet hit you anyway?" Sam asked.

"Which one?" John said, laughing weakly before spitting up more blood. John pulled out his own cell phone and dialed 911 himself, handing the phone to Dean.

"We need an ambulance at.." Dean stopped talking, "What's the address here... wait, what?" He looked at the phone screen. "Who the hell puts a 911 call on hold?" Dean slammed a fist into the wall.


	25. Hallows

Hallows

"Let's just drive him to the ER," Sam said, "There was a hospital on the way here." He glanced back towards the door. "Dean..." Dean looked up from the wall he'd substituted as a punching bag. Dean followed Sam's gaze. The demon, their demon, was gone. Disappeared.

"What?" John asked, from the bed.

"Nothing dad," Dean said.

"He's gone isn't he?" John said.

"Um, yeha," Sam said, afraid that the demon was still alive.

John, instead of getting mad, smiled. "We did it," he said with as much joy as he could muster. "Jasper and Rose should be gone too." Sam and Dean both looked. He was right. They were gone. "We did it, theyre gone, they're dead," John said, realization sinking in. "Mary, Mary," he started to whisper.

"Dad?" Dean asked, stretching the word out into two syllables. "Stay with us, okay?"

"I dont want to," he said like a three year old with a candy bar, and laughed. "I want to see Mary."

"I'm kind of right here," a soft female voice spoke. Everyone looked toward the doorway again, and Sam and Dean's jaws dropped.

"Mom." Dean said it as a word. Not a question. Just a fact.

"Dean," she said back. "Sammy," She walked over to him and ruffled her fingers through his hair. "You need a haircut," she said, with a look on her face, and laughed. She hugged her boys and went over to her husband. She kissed his forehead. "Sleep," she said in a whisper. John closed his eyes.

His breathing was less shallow and he stopped bleeding.

"He wont die wil he?" Dean asked.

"Not yet, at least, everyone has to die," Mary said. "Oh, my boys grew up well." She sighed. Her voice was so soft.

"Are you... I'm confused," Sam said. She looked alive, she could hug them, but she was dressed in her nightgown from twenty-two years ago.

"I'm not alive, Sammy," she said, with her soft voice, with a sad look on her face. "I'm... let's say borrowing some time from the big man upstairs."

"God?" Dean said.

"Whoever you want him to be," Mary whispered, looking up and smiling.

"Your not gonna call down some golden rays and ascend into the sky are you?" Dean asked.

Mary laughed a sweet laugh, and shook her head no. "No I'm not, Dean."

"Then..." Sam's voice drifted off.

"Don't even try to understand," Mary said. "You wont be able to."

"What are you here for?" Dean asked.

"I've been here," Mary said, "Occasionally, from time to time. Jess, by the way, sends her love." Mary looked dead into Sam's eyes and Sam fought the urge to cry all of a sudden. "And she tells you to move on," Mary went to hug her son. "And she tells you to be happy." Sam blinked out a tear or two. "I told her to tell you herself."

"What?" Sam said.

"Ah, one big happy reunion, huh?" Sam knew that voice. Jess.

"Let's not make this a chick flick, please," Dean said, louder than he should have.

"Be nice!" Mary scolded her son. "I can bring up the Cassie thing again." Dean's face flushed red. "Don't think I didn't know," she said.

"You didn't, like..." he started, trailing off suggestively. "I mean, you can see things."

"Don't, Dean," Mary said.

Sam stood in shock. Silent shock. "I love you," Jess said, "But move on. For me. Tell me you will."

"Chick flick, please stop," Dean said, fighting the urge to gag as they hugged.

Jess stepped back, to Sam's dismay. "I don't have much time," Jess said, waiting for an answer.

"I.. I'll try," Sam said. Jess glared at him. "I will!" he said, laughing.

"Dean," she said, looking over at him.

"I'll make sure of it," Dean said, and stood in attention like a soldier for a split second and laughed.

Mary ruffled Dean's hair and sat next to her husband. "This isn't the last time I'll see you," she told all three of her family members.

"Me either. I'll be there at your wedding, Sammy," Jess said.

"Oh please, for my stomach's sake, this isn't Paramount Pictures," Dean said.

"Chill out, Dean," Jess said. "I can go have a talk with this Cassie if you want."

"Oh, god, help me," Dean said.

"You won't remember any of this when you wake up either," Mary said, with a touch of sadness in her voice. "I love you. All 3 of you. Don't you forget that."

And with that, Sam and Dean blacked out.

They woke up in the pontiac at 7:00 the next morning. Sam woke up in shotgun seat and looked at Dean, who woke up several seconds afterward. Both of them were clueless. They looked back at their dad, asleep in the back seat.

"Well, what's the last thing _you_ remember?" Dean asked Sam

**Short Chapter, but it's my transition to the end chapter. The next one, sadly, will be the last. Awwww. My first fanfiction... it's almost over :( Did you really think I could kill Denny... I mean John?? lol. I love JDM too much. **


	26. It's Just The End of the Beginning!

Chapter 26: Man, It's Just The End of the Beginning

"Mr. Padalecki? You're going to be fine," the doctor who performed the MRI said. "Are you sure it was a hunting accident?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Alright then." She smiled at John, and walked out the door.

"What kind of a cover up name is Padalecki?" John asked. "A simple Mr. Smith could have worked," he said, joking with Sam. The MRI had shown no bullet, but a bullet hole through his midsection. The doctors had been amazed at the miss of internal organs.

_Why was he coughing up blood then?_ Dean had wondered, but took the mystery as some weird blessing.

"Sammy, can you go get me some water or something?" John said, his voice gritty.

"Yeah, dad," Sam said, going out into the hallway by the water fountain.

"Hey, Winchester?" Sam heard a voice and out of instinct looked up. Into cold yellow eyes. He lurched backwards in shock. "You didn't think I died did you? Your bullet barely grazed my head. Work on your aim, boy."

That was the last thing Sam heard before he felt something hit him, and hard. He fell forward into the fountain, his vision going out like someone had flicked a swtch. He slowly slid to the floor, and someone was already catching him. He tried to fight them but his body wouldn't respond in time. His head turned slightly to the side and a weak moan escaped his lips, only to be stifled by someone putting a damp cloth over his mouth. He tried his best not to take a breath.

"It's ok, Sammy," a voice hissed into his ear. "It's time to go to sleep."

And try as he might to stop it, his body forced him to take a breath, and he felt himself immediately begin to fade. He succumbed to the darkness.

* * *

"Sammy?" Dean wondered out loud about ten minutes later.

"I just asked for him to get water," John said, also curious to where he had gone. Dean walked down to the fountain, where someone had stuck a sticky note onto the faucet.

Dean walked closer, and his stomach lurched. There was a spot of blood on it. He tentatively reached for it. There, in an untidy scrawl, it read:

_Dean-_

_If you ever want to see your brother again, I suggest you come find him, and find him very soon. He's just _dying_ to see you. I would hate to have to make him wait._

**Haha, didn't think I would end it without cliffhanging you did you? Well, I may decide to write a sequel, but y'all might have to wait for that. evil laff luv yah!!!! Keep your eyes peeled for a sequel! **


End file.
